LIBRARY  OF 


J.  EUGENE  REED. 


no. 


1125  LELAND,  C.  G.  Letters  to  a  Ladv  (from  the 
German).    First  ed.    120  clothflMfi^-  '  Phila.,  1864 


/ 


LETTERS  TO  A  LADY. 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2014 


https://archive.org/details/letterstolady01humb 


LETTERS  TO  A  LADY 


B  Y 

WILHELM  VON  HUMBOLDT. 


jFrow  t !) e  (Sermau. 


WITH    AN  INTRODUCTION 

B  Y 

CHARLES  GODFREY  LELAND. 


PHILADELPHIA: 

FREDERICK  LEYPOLDT. 
New  York:  F.  W.  Christern. 
18G4. 


CAXTO.V  PRESS  OF  C.  SHERMAX,  SOX  &  CO.,  PHILADELPHIA. 


INTRODUCTION. 


Karl  Wilhelm,  Baron  von  Humboldt,  elder  brother 
of  the  eminent  naturalist,  Friedrich  Heinrich  Alexan- 
der von  Humboldt,  was  born  in  Potsdam,  June  22,  17G7, 
and  died  at  Tegel,  April  8,  1835.  From  early  youth  his 
education  was  carefully  conducted  by  such  teachers  as  the 
celebrated  Campe,  the  philosophers  Engel,  Kunth,  Fi- 
scher, and  von  Dohm  ;  while  at  the  universities  of  Frank- 
fort and  Göttingen  he  was  either  the  pupil  or  intimate 
friend  of  Heyne  the  philologist,  Jacobi,  Johannes  von 
Müller,  and  other  eminent  men  of  ability.  He  had  in- 
deed, from  boyhood,  an  intense  desire  to  profit  by  intellec- 
tual intercourse.  "My  passion  was,"  said  he,  "to  be 
near  celebrated  men,  to  study  them  with  care,  to  realize 
accurately  their  manner  of  living  and  thinking.  I  asso- 
ciated each  with  general  ideas ;  I  classed  men  and  minds, 
and  made  of  them,  so  to  speak,  a  special  science. " 

On  the  breaking  out  of  the  French  revolution,  Hum- 
boldt, who  entertained  liberal  sympathies,  went  with  his 
friend,  "the  honest  and  naif  Campe,"  to  Paris  (1789). 
He  there  greatly  extended  the  circle  of  his  observations, 

(iii) 


iv 


INTRODUCTION. 


but  was  soon  convinced  of  the  impossibility  of  founding  a 
state  on  untried  theories.  He  incorporated  his  views  in 
two  works,  combating  the  theory  common  to  both  radical 
socialists  and  despots,  which  declares  that  the  individual 
should  be  subordinated  to  the  state,  and  contending  for 
individual  liberty;  a  doctrine  coinciding  with  the  practical 
Republicanism  of  the  present  day  in  the  United  States. 
"That,"  says  he,  "is  the  most  perfect  type  of  society, 
where  there  are  the  fewest  hinderances  to  the  legitimate 
development  of  every  man's  powers.."  Returning  to  Ger- 
many he  devoted  himself,  under  the  guidance  of  Heyne 
and  Wolf,  to  Greek  literature  and  art ;  and  subsequently, 
during  his  close  intimacy  with  Schiller  and  Goethe,  to 
{esthetics,  philosophy,  and  poetry.  In  1791  he  married 
Caroline  Dacherode,  a  lady  of  brilliant  mind  and  fasci- 
nating manners,  who  shared  with  enthusiasm  his  studies, 
and  became,  under  his  tuition,  a  good  Greek  scholar.  On 
the  death  of  his  father,  in  1797,  he  began  his  travels,  or 
rather  his  residences,  in  France  and  Spain,  during  which 
time  he  was  occupied  with  his  system  of  comparative  an- 
thropology, or  a  philosophical  history  of  mental  develop- 
ment, in  which  every  phase  of  literature  should  be  traced 
to  a  corresponding  civilization.  It  was  at  this  time  that 
philology,  which  is  now,  in  ethnology,  what  color  is  in 
painting,  was  beginning  to  assume  its  present  import- 
ance ;  and  Wilhelm  von  Humboldt  was,  in  the  words  of 
Saint  Rene  Taillandier,  "the  real  creator  of  compara- 
tive philology.    Before  him  great  minds,  Hamann,  Her- 


INTRODUCTION. 


V 


der,  Adelung,  and  Frederick  Schlegel,  had  laid  the  way 
and  given  indications  of  genius  ;  but  Humboldt  was  the 
first  who  made  of  it  a  science." 

Returning  to  Germany  in  1801,  he  was  appointed  Prus- 
sian resident  minister  at  Rome ;  and  during  an  active 
public  career,  until  the  year  1820,  distinguished  himself 
as  much  in  diplomacy  as  in  letters.  "  Europe/'  said  Tal- 
leyrand, "  has  not  three  statesmen  of  such  ability  as 
Humboldt."  When,  on  the  10th  of  August,  1813,  Aus- 
tria signed  the  treaty  by  which  she  decisively  engaged  to 
take  part  in  the  alliance  of  Europe  against  Napoleon, 
Baron  von  Stein  uttered  a  cry  of  exultation,  and  in  a 
letter  to  the  court  of  Munster  attributed  the  honor  of  this 
resolution  on  the  part  of  Austria  "  to  the  influence  of 
Wilhelm  von  Humboldt."  His  influence  and  activity 
were  not  less  remarkable  at  the  Congresses  of  Frankfort, 
of  Chatillon,  of  Paris,  and  finally  at  that  of  Vienna,  in 
all  of  which  he  represented  Prussia  with  extraordinary 
ability.  "A  remarkable  clearness  of  perception,  and  ad- 
mirable purity  of  principle,  characterized,"  says  Tail- 
landier,  "  his  political  negotiations.  He  excelled  in 
guessing  the  secret  thoughts  of  his  adversaries,  in  dis- 
covering the  vulnerable  points  of  their  arguments,  and  in 
leading  them  little  by  little  towards  principles  which  they 
could  not  reject  without  compromising  their  cause.  To 
this  merciless  clearness  of  intelligence  [clarU  impitoyable 
de  V esprit]  he  often  added  a  delicate,  polished,  cutting 
irony — the  irony  of  a  philosopher  and  refined  courtier." 


vi 


INTRODUCTION. 


It  was  the  perseverance  and  argument  of  Humboldt 
which  finally  prevailed  on  Metternich  to  join  in  the 
European  Alliance  of  1813. 

Until  1820,  Wilhelm  von  Humboldt  served  his  country 
in  several  important  positions.  lie  was  ambassador  to 
London,  and  a  member  of  the  ministry  at  Berlin,  where 
h<j  had  previously  distinguished  himself  by  important  re- 
forms in  education.  But  when,  in  1819,  the  Prussian 
government,  false  to  the  promises  made  to  the  people  in 
the  hour  of  danger,  refused  to  introduce  the  representative 
system  and  grant  a  constitution,  and  when,  in  short,  under 
the  shallow  pretence  of  punishing  democracy,  it  attacked 
national  liberty,  Humboldt  firmly  opposed  its  policy,  and 
was,  consequently,  dismissed  from  the  ministry,  and  de- 
prived of  his  state  appointments.  From  this  time  he 
devoted  his  life  to  science  and  literature,  to  domestic 
happiness,  and  philosophic  and  religious  meditations. 
The  death  of  his  wife,  in  1829  —  a  woman  in  every 
way  worthy  of  him  —  had  been  well-nigh  a  death-blow, 
and  in  a  very  few  years  he  was  called  on  to  mourn  the 
loss  of  Goethe,  and  most  of  his  friends  of  "the  great 
generation."  Weak  in  body,  and  almost  blind,  his  mind 
was,  however,  as  clear  as  ever,  in  which  state  he  died,  on 
the  8th  of  August,  1835,  in  all  the  vigor  of  his  mental 
powers,  in  full  serenity  of  mind  ;  and  as  his  pure  soul 
fled  from  its  earthly  prison,  there  passed  from  his  lips, 
like  a  prayer,  a  verse  from  the  poet  whom  he  had 
loved. 


INTRODUCTION. 


VÜ 


"But  that  Wilhelm  von  Humboldt,"  says  a  German 
writer,  "was,  in  addition  to  his  gifts  as  a  truly  great 
statesman  and  scholar,  also  a  tender  and  assiduous  friend, 
a  true  man  of  the  world,  and  one  noble  in  all  things,  the 
public  in  general  first  learned  from  his  Letters  to  a  Female 
Friend,  which  contain  a  marvellous  wealth  of  the  shrewdest 
observations  and  judgments,  and  tenderest  and  noblest 
feelings.  From  either  in  a  moral  or  intellectual  point  of 
view  they  are  a  mass  of  gems  in  German  literature. " 

The  history  of  this  work — a  partial  English  translation 
from  which  I  have  been  requested  to  edit  for  the  first  time 
for  the  American  public — is  as  follows.  In  1788,  Hum- 
boldt, while  as  yet  a  student,  passed  three  days  at  Pyr- 
mont in  company  with  a  young  lady,  Charlotte  (afterward, 
it  is  said,  Madame  von  Stein),  who  was  with  her  father, 
a  clergyman,  a  guest  at  a  hotel.  Twenty-six  years  later 
this  lady — who  had,  in  the  interval,  suffered  much  during 
an  extraordinary  and  eventful  life,  and  been  reduced  to 
poverty  by  the  voluntary  sacrifice  of  her  property  to  the 
state  in  ite  "dire  need"  —  renewed  the  acquaintance 
with  Humboldt,  who,  in  the  most  delicate  manner,  aided 
her  in  her  want,  and  consoled  her  sorrows  with  this  corre- 
spondence. He  found  in  her  a  person  of  "  unaffected 
elegance  and  originality  of  thought,"  gifted  with  a  purely 
feminine  and  religious  character.  In  his  own  letters  to 
her  we  have  a  book,  almost  sui  generis ;  the  unexpected 
revelation  of  the  deepest  and  noblest  feelings  of  a  great 
man,  in  the  form  of  advice  or  refined  counsel  in  letters  to 


viii 


INTRODUCTION. 


a  lady — forming  a  work  which  every  woman  may  study  to 
advantage,  and  which  should  be  placed  in  the  hands  of 
every  girl. 

Much  of  the  original  correspondence  was  never  pub- 
lished ;  and  the  editor  believes  that,  as  the  spirit  of  all 
collections  of  letters  can  invariably  be  given  in  a  selec- 
tion, a  larger  circle  of  readers  will  be  secured  and  more 
good  be  done  by  the  publication  of  this  first  series,  con- 
taining the  cream  of  the  whole,  than  if  the  entire  mass — 
a  bulky  work — had  been  given.  This  is  certainly  true 
as  regards  the  young,  for  whom  it  is  specially  commended. 

As  it  is,  this  volume  is  a  classic  in  European  literature, 
and  without  a  rival  among  works  intended  to  refine,  edify, 
and  ennoble  the  minds  of  women. 

Charles  Godfrey  Leland. 

Note. — The  reader  desirous  of  studying  more  fully  the  Life  of 
Wilhelm  von  Humboldt  may  consult  the  article,  hy  Taillandier, 
in  Didot's  NouveJle  Biographie  Generale,  Paris,  1858;  Erinnerun- 
gen an  Wilhelm  von  Humboldt,  hy  Gustav  Schlesier,  Stutt- 
gart, 1843-45;  Wilhelm  VON  Humboldt,  Lebensbild  und  Charak- 
teristik, hy  Robert  Haym,  Berlin,  1856;  W.  von  Humboldt,  Licht- 
strahlen aus  seinen  Brie/en,  by  Eliza  Maier,  Leipsic,  1850;  Lives 
of  the  Brothers  Humboldt,  Alexander  and  William,  translated 
and  arranged  from  the  German  of  Klencke  and  Schlesier,  by 
Juliette  Bauer,  New  York,  1853,  with  portraits;  and  the  Memoir 
of  Wilhelm  von  Humboldt,  contributed  by  myself  to  Vol.  IX. 
of  Appleton's  Cyclopcedia.  New  York,  1863. 


LETTERS  TO  A  LADY. 


BY 

WILHELM  VON  HUMBOLDT. 


LETTER  I. 

Vienna,  3d  December,  1814. 

I cannot  express  the  pleasure  with  which  I  re- 
ceived early  this  morning  your  letter  of  the  18th 
of  October.  I  always  considered  our  meeting  at  Pyr- 
mont as  something  more  than  the  result  of  chance, 
and  you  err  very  much,  if  you  suppose  that  you 
passed  away  from  my  memory  with  the  fleeting 
images  of  my  youth.  I  often  thought  of,  and  often 
inquired  after  you,  but  in  vain ;  and  concluded  that 
you  had  married  and  long  since  forgotten  me  in  the 
bosom  of  your  family,  in  the  midst  of  your  children, 
and,  if  at  all,  remembered  me  but  as  one  of  the  pass- 
ing objects  of  your  youthful  days.  I  now  learn  with 
surprise, how  much  less  simple  your  life  has  been 

(11) 


12 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


than  I  had  supposed  it,  and  must  think  that,  had 
you  communicated  with  me  in  your  season  of  trouble, 
you  would  have  found  my  advice  of  some  value. 
Believe  me,  my  dear  Charlotte, — excuse  this  familiar 
address,  only  you  and  I  read  our  letters, — men  have 
not  trust  enough  in  their  fellow  men.  I  now  learn 
for  the  first  time  how  much  deeper  an  impression  I 
made  on  you  than  I  ever  imagined.  Your  hand- 
writing, which  I  now  see  after  so  long  an  interval, 
speaks  to  me  as  from  another  world.  I  have  the 
good  fortune, — good  fortune  I  indeed  consider  it, — 
to  be  ashamed  of  none  of  my  youthful  sentiments, 
and  to  be  now,  believe  me,  as  ingenuous  as  then. 
Every  word  of  your  letter  has  affected  me ;  you 
have  my  entire  sympathy  and  thanks  for  the  kind- 
ness which  has  thought  me  worthy  of  your  confi- 
dence. Write  to  me,  then,  if  you  think  me  worth 
the  trouble,  without  reserve,  with  that  reliance 
wThich  I  might,  perhaps,  have  had  a  right  to  expect 
from  you,  had  I  ever  seen  you  again.  You  are  very 
wrong  in  saying  that  a  woman's  soul  retains  im- 
pressions more  lastingly  than  a  man's.  I  could 
prove  to  you  the  contrary  from  your  own  letters. 
Confess,  (I  will  not  reproach  you,)  but  remember 
that  twenty-six  years  have  elapsed  since  our  first 
short  acquaintanceship,  and  that  we  shall  never,  it 


tiUMB  OL  D  T 'S   LET  TER S, 


13 


is  most  probable,  meet  again, — confess  that  I  passed 
from  your  thoughts  almost  as  soon  as  I  passed  from 
your  presence.  You  have  forgotten  the  promise  which 
I  made  to  visit  you  again,  the  non-performance  of 
which  has  caused  me  so  much  grief.  Now,  I  could 
yet  point  out  the  bank  in  the  lane  where  we  were 
sitting  when  I  made  it ;  I  wished  to  pay  you  an- 
other visit,  but  was  prevented  by  my  youthful  ped- 
antry, which  would  not  allow  me  to  delay  for  a  week 
my  return  to  Göttingen.  I  feel  certain  that  it  was 
our  destiny  never  to  meet  again  in  this  life,  and  am 
only  sorry  that  I  have  not  had  an  opportunit}^  of 
doing  you  some  service ;  you  may  be  quite  assured 
that  no  painful  sentiments  would  have  disturbed  us, 
had  you  communicated  with  me  earlier.  I  have  no 
apprehensions  of  that  sort,  You  will  understand, 
after  this  confession,  the  interest  which  I  take  in 
your  welfare.  It  has  occupied  my  thoughts  all  this 
day.  I  beseech  you  to  trust  yourself,  for  the  pre- 
sent, entirely  to  my  guidance.  I  have  more  expe- 
rience of  the  world  than  you,  and  I  know  as  well  as 
you  what  a  mind  in  your  condition  must  require. 
Give  up  all  your  little  plans,  confide  in  me  entirely, 
and  you  will  do  me  the  greatest  favor  in  your  power. 
What  you  need,  what  your  health  and  your  heart 
need,  is  rest.    The  anxiety  which  you  have  experi- 


14 


H I  MB  OL  I)  T  >S  LETTERS. 


enced  in  seeking  for  the  means  of  support  has  worn 
out  both.  You  were,  when  I  knew  you,  I  well  re- 
collect, in  very  good  health.  Remain  quiet  for  a 
twelvemonth,  repose  after  the  storms  you  have  en- 
countered, and  your  health  will  be  as  good  as  ever. 
This  is  the  best  counsel  for  your  future  plans.  He 
who  seeks  when  he  needs,  finds  with  difficulty.  If 
a  man  can  but  get  a  season  of  repose,  his  affairs 
soon  go  straight  of  themselves.  Time  will  direct 
both  you  and  me  as  to  your  future  plans.  I  con- 
sider it  my  duty  to  speak  quite  openly  to  you. 
Would  that  you  had  thus  dealt  with  me!  The 
duke's  letters  are  very  kind,  and  do  him  much 
honor;  but  it  is  very  evident,  as  you  may  learn 
from  your  friend's  letters,  that  he  can  give  you  no 
assistance.  All  these  things  you  must  leave  to  time 
and  fate.  Let  it  be  my  privilege,  however,  to  pro- 
cure for  you  a  twelvemonth's  rest — a  season  of  re- 
pose from  all  your  little  anxieties.  It  is  my  earnest 
request,  dear  Charlotte,  and  I  hope  you  will  not  re- 
fuse it.  To  do  so  would  be  a  very  false  delicacy, 
and  I  need  scarcely  say  that  none  but  ourselves  will 
know  anything  of  the  matter.  I  am  not  rich,  but  I 
can  learn  from  your  letters,  and  it  increases  my 
respect  for  you  and  the  interest  which  I  take  in  your 
welfare,  that  your  wants  are  few  and  simple.    I  en- 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


If) 


close  you  a  bank  bill,  which,  I  know,  will  serve  but 
for  a  few  months ;  but  I  entreat  you  to  send  me  a 
full  and  particular  account  of  all  you  need,  including 
the  expenses  of  a  course  of  mineral  waters.  Be 
quite  certain  that  I  never  do  more  than  quite  suits 
my  means;  if  ever  your  circumstances  should  change 
very  much  for  the  better,  you  can  repay  me ;  but 
understand  that  my  wish  is,  that  you  should  have  a 
whole  year's  rest,  in  which,  undisturbed  by  any 
cares,  you  may  mature  your  future  plans.  I  can 
judge  very  well,  from  the  delineations  which  you 
have  given  me  of  your  own  character,  to  what  I  ex- 
pose myself  in  making  you  this  offer.  I  know 
how  probable  it  is  that  you  may  reject  it  with 
disdain  and  reproaches.  But  I  persevere  in  my 
plan,  for  I  am  convinced  it  is  the  one  most  suited  to 
your  present  position.  Do  not,  dear  Charlotte,  sup- 
pose from  this,  that  I  should  think  it  in  any  way 
improper  for  you  to  earn  your  own  subsistence  by 
your  own  exertions.  I  only  wish  you  to  delay 
them  till  your  health  is  re-established ;  in  its  pre- 
sent state  they  would  destroy  you.  Believe  me,  if 
you  should  look  to  others,  you  would  find  no  one 
answering  you  so  unselfishly,  and  with  so  little  pre- 
tension. Others  would  suppose  that  they  did  you  a 
favor ;  in  my  case  you  are  doing  one.    I  will  now 


16 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


leave  this  subject,  to  give,  as  you  requested,  some 
account  of  myself.  I  married,  as  you  say  you  have 
heard,  three  years  after  I  met  with  you,  and  have 
had  eight  children,  five  of  whom  are  now  living.  I 
married  simply  for  love,  and  have  been  happier  per- 
haps than  any  other  man  in  my  marriage.  I  have 
had  the  misfortune  during  the  last  two  years  to  be 
taken  away  very  frequently  from  my  sick  wife  by 
the  duties  of  my  office,  as  is  now  the  case.  As  you 
have  heard  of  me  so  frequently,  you  have  heard,  no 
doubt,  that  I  was  for  some  time  ambassador  at 
Rome.  I  accepted  the  post  only  for  the  sake  of  the 
country,  and,  but  for  unhappy  occurrences,  should 
never,  probably,  have  left  it.  The  performance  of 
my  duties,  which  I  consider  a  matter  of  conscience, 
has,  since  then,  tossed  me  about  in  various  direc- 
tions. But  this  mode  of  life  is  little  suited  to  my 
inclinations,  which  desire  simplicity  and  repose. 
During  the  war  I  was  at  head-quarters,  after  that 
in  England,  and  then  I  went  to  visit  my  wife,  who 
was  residing  in  Switzerland.  At  present  I  am 
attending  the  congress  here,  and  she  is  at  her 
estate,  and  is  about  to  proceed  to  Berlin,  where  I 
shall  meet  her  on  my  way  to  Paris,  as  ambassador, 
whither,  somewhat  later,  she  will  follow  me.  My 
eldest  son  has  been  an  officer  in  active  service  from 


HUMBOLDT  'S  LETTERS. 


his  sixteenth  year ;  he  was  severely  wounded  some 
short  time  since,  but  has  returned,  I  rejoice  to  say, 
perfectly  convalescent.  Besides  him,  I  have  another 
boy  and  three  girls.  My  two  youngest  daughters 
have  been  brought  up  in  Italy,  and  when  they  first 
came  to  Vienna,  could  not  speak  a  syllable  of  Ger- 
man. I  wish  you  could  see  them ;  they  are  two 
delightful  little  creatures.  I  had  the  misfortune  to 
lose  two  sons  in  Rome,  and  one  of  my  daughters 
died  whilst  with  her  mother  on  a  journey  to  Paris. 
These  are  my  outward  misfortunes.  Of  the  dis- 
tresses of  my  soul,  I  may  speak  but  cannot  write. 

Receive,  again,  my  hearty  thanks.  I  know  not 
whether  I  shall  ever  see  you  again ;  I  scarcely  dare 
to  hope  it.  I  cannot  form  any  picture  in  my  mind 
of  your  present  appearance.  But  as  I  still  retain  a 
vivid  recollection  of  your  former  appearance,  in 
spite  of  the  brief  period  of  our  acquaintance,  believe 
that  my  friendship  for  you  was  never,  and  never 
shall  be  fleeting. 

Ever  yours,  H. 
I  return  the  original  letters  and  the  memoir. 


18 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


LETTER  II. 

Vienna,  18th  December  ,814. 

Dear  Charlotte, 

Many  thanks  for  your  delightful  letter.  You 
really  esteem  too  highly  that  which  is  so 
simple  and  could  not  be  otherwise.  I  have  never 
forgotten  you,  never  could  forget  you,  but  had  no 
idea  that  you  would  hear  anything  of  me,  or  recol- 
lect me  if  you  did.  Suddenly,  you  declare  to  me, 
that  in  spite  of  all  the  circumstances  which  have 
separated  us,  you  have  cherished  the  memory  of  our 
youthful  meeting  even  more  vividly  and  dearly 
than  I.  In  the  joy  and  emotion  which  your  declara- 
tion has  awakened  within  me,  I  have  and  ever  will 
answer  you.  Do  not  on  that  account  withdraw  the 
confidence  which  you  have  reposed  in  me ;  ever 
write  to  me  as  freely  and  trustingly  as  now ;  feel 
towards  me  as  I  feel  towards  you,  and  remember 
that  your  letters  can  never  be  too  long  or  too 
copious.  A  woman's  unreserved  confidence  is  the 
greatest  compliment  and  happiness  which  a  man 
can  receive.  I  have,  of  course,  no  sort  of  claim  to 
this  from  you,  in  whose  memory  I  must  hold  a  very 
unimportant  and  ill-defined  position.    But  I  must 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


L9 


tear  myself  from  business,  cares  and  amusements, 
in  order  to  be  able  to  become  somewhat  to  you. 
And  how  delighted  should  I  be,  if  you  were  to  con- 
tinue to  confide  in  me  the  feelings  of  your  outward 
and  inner  life  as  unreservedly  as  )^ou  have  just  de- 
clared the  respect  with  which  I  long  ago  inspired 
you.  Pray  write  to  me  frequently.  You  express 
yourself  very  naturally  and  very  well,  and  I  am  as 
pleased  as  a  child  when  I  see  your  pretty  hand- 
writing, which  I  recollect  so  well  of  old.  Above 
all  things  write  to  me  of  yourself.  Your  last  letter 
contained  scarcely  a  word  about  your  health.  Let 
me  know  whether  your  strength  and  spirits  are 
improving.  One  favor  I  must  especially  request  of 
you,  which  is,  not  to  delay  writing  to  me  until  you 
have  received  an  answer  to  your  last  letter;  be  so 
kind  as  not  to  expect  an  equality  of  letters  between 
us,  for,  as  you  know  I  have  very  little  time  at  my 
own  command,  I  can  write  but  seldom,  and  then 
hurriedly ;  do  not  ask  more  of  me.  You  will  dis- 
cover, perhaps,  in  this  request  more  of  candor  than 
is  right ;  but  I  do  not  deny  that  I  am  very  selfish, 
and  am  willing  to  lower  the  far  too  exalted  place 
which  I  at  present  hold  in  your  opinion. 

You  ask  whether  you  should  reside  in  Göttingen 

or  Brunswick,  and  wish  to  be  guided  by  me.  That 
2 


20  Hi  MBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 

is  a  tender  point  with  me.  I  am  very  glad  when 
any  one  follows  my  opinion.  I  should  rather  that 
you  went  to  Göttingen,  not  only  because  I  know 
that  you  will  find  it  much  pleasanter,  but  because  it 
is  much  dearer  to  myself.  You  will  think  this  very 
strange,  and  wonder  why  I  should  come  to  this 
decision;  which,  in  fact,  I  can  explain  in  no  other 
way  than  that  when  I  lived  at  Brunswick  I  did  not 
know  you,  and  that  at  Göttingen  you  were  seldom 
out  of  my  thoughts.  I  also  love  Göttingen  because 
I  lived  there  some  time  alone,  and  to  live  alone  is 
to  live  in  the  midst  of  a  thousand  pleasant  fancies. 
Salute  the  ramparts  for  me,  and  tell  me  what  you 
think  of  the  inhabitants. 

Farewell  for  the  present,  my  dear  friend,  and  be 
no  more  a  stranger.  We  are  united  in  a  wonderful 
relation.  How  many  are  there  who,  having  met 
for  a  few  days  many  years  since,  would  care  for 
each  other  now  ?  But  there  are  so  few  joys  of  this 
pure  and  tender  nature,  that  I  should  be  ashamed  to 
withhold  the  confession,  that  your  image  will  ever 
be  inextricably  united  in  my  soul  with  all  the  feel- 
ings of  my  youth, —  of  that  time,  when  the  state  of 
Germany  and  the  world  was  so  much  more  simple 
but  so  much  more  beautiful  than  at  present,  I  have 
a  great  love  for  all  that  is  past.    That  which  has 


U UMB OLDT'S  L  E  TTERS. 


21 


been  is  as  eternal  and  unchangeable  as  death,  and, 


t  is  very  long  since  I  heard  from  you,  and  I  am 


J-  grieved  to  find  that  you  have  wholly  forgotten 
me  who  think  of  you  so  often.  Write,  dear  Char- 
lotte, as  soon  as  you  receive  these  lines,  to  let  me 
know  how  you  get  on.  I  have  long  been  anxious 
to  write  to  you  for  some  account  of  yourself,  and 
the  reason  of  your  long  silence,  of  which,  perhaps, 
I  am  the  cause.  I  write  such  short  letters  that  you 
fear,  probably,  lest  you  should  weary  me  by  writing 
frequently.  Direct  your  letters  to  Burgörner,  near 
Eisleben ;  I  am  residing  here  on  one  of  my  wife's 
estates.    Farewell,  and  send  me  an  answer  imme- 


LETTER  III. 


Burgomer,  April,  1822. 


diately. 


H. 


22 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


LETTER  IV. 

Burgörner,  April,  1822. 

These  lines  follow  so  closely  on  the  brief  epistle 
which  I  sent  you  a  few  days  since,  for  two 
reasons,  one  of  which  is,  my  eager  desire  to  hear 
from  you  after  your  long  silence ;  and  the  other,  a 
doubt  whether  my  first  letter  would  ever  reach  you, 
as  I  am  not  quite  sure  that  I  know  your  right 
address.  Confidently  hoping  that  you  have  not  for- 
gotten me,  believe  me,  I  never  forget  you. 

Yours,  H. 


LETTER  V. 

Burgörner,  3d  May,  1822. 

Dearest  Charlotte, 

I received  your  very  agreeable  letters  of  the  24th 
and  26th  of  April,  and  hasten  to  give  you  my 
most  sincere  thanks.  They  pleased  me  very  much, 
and  quite  answered  my  expectations.  I  could  never 
mistake  your  worth,  nor  lose  my  confidence  in  the 
stability  of  your  sentiments.  To  doubt  in  respect 
of  one  whose  noble  and  tender  disposition  retains 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


23 


for  us  a  feeling  of  affection  after  many  years  of  total 
separation,  would  be  base  ingratitude.  It  is  cer- 
tainly a  piece  of  singular  good  fortune  for  a  man, 
that  a  woman's  heart  should  continue  to  regard  him 
with  the  holy  and  trustful  sentiments  of  her  youth ; 
it  is  a  piece  of  singular  good  fortune  which  I  prize 
and  treasure  as  it  deserves.  But  I  will  confess, 
with  as  little  pride  as  childish  shyness,  that  I  think 
I  may  be  able  to  render  your  life  both  better  and 
happier.  If  it  is  the  lot  of  two  people  to  possess  a 
common  mine  of  wealth,  they  must  not  leave  it 
unworked,  but  should  unite  unreservedly  in  the 
pursuit  of  its  treasures,  for  by  such  harmony  alone 
can  we  obtain  food  for  the  sensibilities,  and  rest  for 
the  soul.  As  personal  intercourse  is  denied  us,  let 
us  establish  and  commence  a  regular  correspondence. 
You  will  often  have  reason,  I  write  it  with  shame, 
to  exercise  your  kindness  and  patience  in  respect  to 
my  negligence ;  but  recollect  that  although  I  am  a 
bad  correspondent,  I  always  read  letters  with  plea- 
sure, and  especially  yours,  not  only  on  account  of 
your  delightful  manner  of  writing,  but  of  the  great 
sympathy  also  with  which  I  consider  your  temporal 
affairs  and  the  life  of  your  soul.  Always  write  to 
me  on  the  fifteenth,  and  I  shall  then  receive  your 
letters  on  a  leisure  day.    If,  however,  you  write  to 


24 


HU  MB  OL  DT 'S  LETTERS. 


me  in  the  intervals,  I  shall  receive  your  letter  with 
many  thanks  as  a  most  estimable  gift. 

I  was  excessively  pleased  with  the  account  you 
sent  me  of  your  garden,  and  the  reasons  which 
directed  you  in  its  choice.  They  are  very  character- 
istic of  you,  uniting  simplicity  and  elegance.  The 
first  is  in  every  way  suited  to  your  sentiments  and 
position,  whilst  the  last  will  beautify  and  adorn  your 
life.  I  am  pleased  to  hear  that  you  seldom  enter 
the  town.  Some  visits  of  course  you  cannot  avoid, 
and  it  is  well  to  retain  some  acquaintance,  especially 
as  yours  are,  you  tell  me,  old  and  well  proved  friends. 

I  can  quite  understand  your  wish  to  live  in  *  *  *, 
which,  if  associated  in  your  mind  with  some  un- 
pleasant circumstances,  was  yet  the  scene  of  your 
happy  and  serene  youthful  years.  The  neighbor- 
hood is  very  beautiful,  and,  as  you  rightly  remark, 
a  great  town  offers,  beyond  all  others,  a  freedom  to 
live  as  you  please,  and  grants  you  many  indulgences 
at  a  slight  expense,  which  a  small  town  denies.  I 
entirely  approve  of  your  resolution  to  continue  your 
residence  there.  In  the  choice  of  your  country 
abode,  consider,  above  all  things,  your  health ;  of 
this  you  tell  me  too  little,  although  you  know  that 
I  am  continually  anxious  about  that,  your  ease  and 
welfare. 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


25 


To  conclude,  I  may  tell  you  that  I  have  been  ill 
the  last  two  weeks  of  an  ague,  which,  as  I  have 
been  free  from  any  sickness  for  years,  I  feel  pecu- 
liarly burdensome.  With  the  most  unchangeable, 
the  most  hearty  affection,  I  remain  yours, 


perfect  restoration. 

At  the  commencement  of  our  correspondence,  you 
thought  that  I  wrote  to  you  too  seldom ;  and  now  I 
must  make  the  same  complaint  against  you.  You 
promised  in  your  last  letter  that  you  would  always 
write  to  me  on  the  15th  of  every  month ;  this  you 
have  not  done ;  and  I  have  in  vain  expected  a  line 
by  the  last  two  posts.  This  silence  makes  me  very 
uneasy,  lest  you  should  be  ill,  and  sets  me  thinking 
on  that  and  every  other  possible  cause  of  your 
delay.  Whatever  it  may  be,  I  am  very  anxious  to 
hear  from  you  again,  and  have  already  read  your 


H. 


LETTER  VI. 


l 


26 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


former  letters  several  times,  each  time  being  more 
delighted  at  the  wonderful  unity  which  I  discover 
in  our  sentiments.  The  world  might  call  that 
vanity ;  might  ascribe  it  only  to  the  wish  to  see 
oneself  flattered  and  honored,  if  a  sense  of  pleasure 
arising  from  these  sentiments  possessed  the  mind. 
But  it  would  be  a  peculiarly  unjust  accusation 
against  me,  for  vanity  was  never  one  of  my  foibles. 
Few  people  judge  themselves  so  harshly ;  few  are 
so  stern  in  withdrawing  themselves  entirely  from 
the  praises  of  others,  and  so  blame  in  themselves 
whatever  is  not  praised.  To  a  certain  mistrust  in 
my  own  power,  I  owe  the  most  advantageous  cir- 
cumstances of  my  public  and  private  life.  But  I 
willingly  own  that  I  very  greatly  esteem  that  nice 
delicacy  of  sentiment  which  touches  so  powerfully  a 
woman's  heart. 

I  could  not  be  so  foolish,  however,  as  to  imagine 
that  you  could  still  stand  in  a  nearer  relation  to  me. 
But  if  one  be  convinced  by  the  true,  natural  and 
impressive  language  of  your  letters  that  your  re- 
spect for  me  is  deep  and  enduring,  a  twofold  feeling 
is  excited  thereby,  agreeably  exalting  the  sentiment, 
—  that  of  self-consciousness,  and  that  of  the  pro- 
foundly noble  mind  which  knew  how  to  distinguish 
and  to  preserve  these  sentiments.    Therefore,  I 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS.  27 

greatly  rejoice  in  this  our  correspondence,  which  to 
you  may  be  of  some  use,  and  to  me  must  be  of 
inestimable  value.  Through  all  the  varied  changes 
of  life,  your  image  has  shone  upon  me  as  a  be- 
nignant light.  I  little  thought  I  should  ever  hear 
from  you  again.  We  renewed  our  acquaintance  in 
the  most  busy  period  of  my  life ;  but  I  am  at  length 
at  leisure,  and  can  indulge  my  desire  of  writing  to 
you.  During  our  long  separation,  it  is  most  pro- 
bable that  many  of  our  ideas  will  have  altered  or 
varied ;  but  which,  in  our  quiet  interchange  of 
thought,  we  can  pleasantly  explain. 

You  remind  me,  dear  Charlotte,  how  close  a 
treasure-house  is  a  woman's  heart,  and  ask  my  con- 
fidence. Believe  me,  I  have  an  unbounded  confi- 
dence in  your  tr,ue,  faithful  and  tender  disposition, 
or  I  should  not  write  to  you  as  openly  and  freely  as 
I  do.  Do  you  also  rely  upon  me.  Be  quite  certain 
that  whatever  you  say  to  me  will  be  secret  as  the 
grave.  Be  thoroughly  also  convinced  that  I  am 
sincerely  anxious  for  your  good ;  that  I  have  always 
been  so,  and  shall  continue  to  be  so.  Trust  me  in 
this,  even  if  you  do  not  at  once  understand  me. 
Leave  the  arrangement  of  our  correspondence  to 
me,  and  fear  no  disturbing  influence.  I  would  not 
force  my  opinions  upon  any  one,  least  of  all  upon 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


you.  I  am  thoroughly  convinced  that  you  are  not 
likely  to  mistake  either  me  or  my  ideas.  I  know, 
indeed,  and  you  have  flatteringly  assured  me  of  it, 
that  you  would  willingly  and  gladly,  as  you  kindly 
express  it,  be  instructed  by  me.  I  am  glad  that 
you  have  told  no  one  of  our  correspondence.  Let 
none  know  it ;  let  not  that  which  is  so  holy  in  itself 
be  made  common. 

Farewell !    Rely  on  my  unchangeable  affection. 

Yours,  H. 


LETTER  VII. 

Burgb'rner,  1822. 

Dearest  Charlotte, 

I am  about  to  make  a  request  to  you,  by  granting 
which  you  will  very  greatly  oblige  me.  I  have 
an  intense  desire  to  hear  the  history  of  your  life, 
the  history  of  the  development  of  your  inner  being. 
I  have  been  led  to  wish  this  by  the  perusal  of  your 
former  letters.  It  cannot  be  a  very  difficult  task, 
for  you  have  a  great  facility  of  composition ;  and 
your  writings  are  exceedingly  good,  being  natural, 
easy  and  artistical ;  you  have,  moreover,  a  great 
command  of  language.    I  do  not  flatter;  I  simply 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


29 


express  my  convictions,  deduced  from  your  own 
letters. 

If  you  should  comply  with  my  request,  let  it  be 
in  the  following  manner.  Set  down  the  events  of 
your  life  very  fully  in  chronological  order.  Write 
from  memory,  not  from  imagination.  Go  back  to 
the  days  of  your  childhood  and  your  youth,  to  your 
parents  and  their  parents ;  and  your  ancestors  before 
them,  if  you  possess  any  knowledge  respecting 
them.  I  wish  you  to  speak  in  the  third  person,  and 
to  give  other  names  to  the  places  and  persons  whom 
you  may  have  to  mention.  Let  one  name,  however, 
remain  ;  never  blot  out  the  dear  name  of  Charlotte, 
for  which,  in  common  with  Goethe,  I  have  a  great 
affection.  Consider  when  you  speak  of  yourself 
that  you  are  speaking  of  another,  and  apply  blame 
and  praise  to  your  conduct  as  though  such  were 
really  the  case. 

I  fear,  lest,  in  complying  with  my  wish,  you 
should  linger  too  fondly  over  your  sorrows,  from 
which  I  know  you  have  already  suffered  so  much. 
From  this  part  of  your  subject,  however,  you  are  as 
yet  far  away ;  it  will  be  your  first  task  to  give,  and 
my  happy  task  to  receive,  some  account  of  the 
happy  days  of  your  childhood.  Be  satisfied,  I  re- 
peat, that  what  you  write  will  be  seen  by  no  other 


30 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


eyes  than  mine.  I  shall  await  your  answer  with 
much  anxiety  ;  and  now,  farewell ! 

Yours,  H. 


LETTER  VIII. 

Burgörner,  1822. 

Dear  Charlotte, 

My  last  two  letters  which  you  have  doubtless  re- 
ceived, although  they  are  yet  unanswered, 
were  simply  intended  to  satisfy  your  scruples.  I 
hope  they  effected  their  purpose,  and  I  now  repeat 
what  I  have  said  on  a  former  occasion,  that  you  will 
of  course  be  guided  entirely  by  your  own  feelings, 
as  to  the  manner  and  extent  to  which  you  may 
unveil  before  me  your  past  life.  In  all  your  re- 
miniscences I  shall  deeply  sympathize,  but  must 
deprecate  your  tearing  open  any  wounds  which  time 
has  healed. 

I  thank  you  very  heartily  for  the  little  sketches 
which  you  have  sent  me.  The  commencement  of 
your  narrative  is  exactly  suited  to  my  taste,  but  I 
wish  that  you  had  written  some  parts  more  circum- 
stantially. Never  think  for  an  instant  that  you  will 
weary  me,  and  have  no  anxiety  to  get  on  too  fast. 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


31 


We  have  time  before  us.  You  especially  interested 
me  by  the  description  of  your  father's  house,  and 
convince  me  more  and  more  that  I  was  right  in 
characterizing  your  compositions  as  true,  beautiful, 
and  life-like.  Pray  continue  them,  and  when  you 
find  them  difficult  or  laborious,  recollect  the  pleasure 
which  they  give  to  me.  To  think  on  the  occur- 
rences of  our  former  days  is  to  add  to  our  future, 
and  there  is  nothing  in  the  world  more  interesting 
to  man  than  man.  One  can  never  see  or  hear 
enough  of  one's  own  species :  every  new  aspect  in 
which  we  behold  it  is  fruitful  of  new  ideas.  Details 
of  its  various  phases  always  fill  the  mind  with 
images  which  have  all  the  semblance  of  reality. 
And  this  inclination  to  be  amused  with  observing 
one's  own  species  is  very  compatible  with  the 
apparently  contradictory  inclination  to  solitude.  As 
soon  as  a  man  is  surrounded  by  men,  as  soon  as  he 
enters  the  routine  of  society,  a  multitude  of  circum- 
stances withdraw  his  attention  from  contemplation. 
But  when  a  man,  who  passes  his  whole  life  in  con- 
templation, enters  society  occasionally,  the  scenes 
and  figures  of  real  life  which  pass  around  him,  so 
far  from  distracting,  but  serve  to  nourish  and  people 
his  thoughts.  Not  so,  however,  if  he  regards  them 
simply  in  their  apparent  nature.    When  he  returns 


32 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


to  his  solitude  a  thousand  visions  arise  in  his  mind, 
if  he  is  inclined  to  active  thought,  idealizing  all  that 
he  has  seen  in  the  material  world.  All  moral 
questions,  all  inquiries  into  the  end  and  aim  of  life, 
respecting  happiness  and  perfection,  the  present  and 
the  future,  allow  of  a  more  manifold  application, 
when  one  can  illustrate  the  various  views  by  ex- 
amples drawn  from  life.  In  every  man,  however 
insignificant  he  may  be  in  appearance,  there  is 
hidden  a  noble  and  thoughtful  nature,  which  is  the 
more  noble  as  he  is  the  more  virtuous.  It  is  in  this 
manner  only  that  we  should  study  mankind,  rising 
by  this  means  from  the  low  objects  of  the  world  to 
a  high  and  glorious  view  of  humanity.  In  this  con- 
sists the  peculiarity  of  the  great  poets :  ideal  per- 
fection often  springs  forth  in  their  works  from  the 
accidental  phases  of  nature  and  society.  It  is  so 
also  in  history.  Humanity  stands  forth  more  nobly 
and  more  gracefully  in  former  ages  than  amidst  the 
petty  events  of  the  present.  To  possess  a  vivid 
idea  of  an  interesting  character  is  a  gain  worthy  of 
a  life,  and  brings  with  it  a  perfect  acquaintance  with 
the  times  and  circumstances  of  the  individual.  I 
have  ever  had  a  particular  liking  for  country  clergy- 
men, and  a  romantic  attachment  to  their  daughters. 
I  felt  this  long  before  I  saw  you,  but  ever  since  I 


HUMBOLDT  S  LETTERS. 


33 


made  your  acquaintance,  you  have  been  the  medium 
of  my  affection ;  I  have  loved  them  in  admiring 
you.  I  consider  that  the  best  points  in  the  German 
character  are  owing  to  the  pastors'  daughters ;  to 
their  earnest  and  amiable  dispositions,  to  their  sim- 
plicity and  talents,  to  their  freedom  from  all  the 
vices  and  possession  of  all  the  virtues  of  a  refined 
aristocracy.  I  have  often  expressed  this  sentiment, 
and  frequently  laughed  at  myself  when  I  recollected 
that  it  was  on  your  account  that  I  thus  lauded  the 
daughters  of  country  clergymen,  of  whom  you  are 
the  only  one  I  have  ever  known.  But,  as  I  have 
said,  I  had  a  presentiment  of  this  which  was  clothed 
with  reality  as  soon  as  I  met  you,  who  are  to  me  as 
a  half-seen  picture,  drawn  away  before  my  eyes  had 
comprehended  the  whole  ;  a  waking  vision.  There- 
fore it  is  that  I  am  so  much  interested  in  your  early 
life,  in  your  parents,  and  the  home  of  your  child- 
hood. I  wish  to  know  whether  there  existed  any 
foundation  for  my  early  visions;  I  wish  to  realize 
the  world  of  my  youthful  fancy.  Hence  I  am  very 
grieved  that  I  did  not  visit  your  father  the  same 
autumn  in  which  I  met  you;  I  was  detained  in 
Düsseldorf  by  my  friend  Jacobi  till  it  was  time  to 
return  to  Göttingen.  Youth  is  sometimes  seized 
with  an  absurd  fit  of  regularity.    For  the  sake  of  a 


34 


H UMB OLD T'S  BE TTEBS. 


few  hours  at  College,  which  I  should  never  have 
missed,  I  lost  the  opportunity,  never  to  be  regained, 
of  possessing  a  vivid  and  lasting  picture  of  your  life 
under  the  paternal  roof,  of  the  whole  color  of  your 
existence. 

You  laugh  at  my  not  thinking  you  sufficiently 
minute,  and  think  that  you  have  included  in  your 
sketches  every  possible  circumstance.  But  I  must 
continue  to  make  the  same  complaint.  I  wish  your 
descriptions  to  be  more  precise,  more  individual- 
izing. I  should  like  you  to  answer  the  following 
questions  in  your  next  letter  with  great  particu- 
larity :  What  was  your  mother's  appearance  ?  This 
may  be  easily  imagined,  but  you  have  not  described 
it,  as  you  should  do  of  all  other  persons  also  whom 
you  may  have  to  mention.  Let  me  have  a  full 
account  of  her  form,  features,  and  manners.  You 
have  given  some  description  of  your  father's  house, 
but  it  is  far  from  being  sufficiently  particular. 
Whether  your  house  was  surrounded  by  gardens, 
whether  it  joined  the  neighboring  houses,  whether 
the  scenery  of  the  neighborhood  was  pretty,  whether 
your  windows  looked  on  to  the  fields,  and  whether 
there  was  a  wide  view  from  them,  you  have  not 
said,  and  yet  it  is  necessary  that  I  should  know  all 
these  circumstances  before  I  can  realize  a  lively 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


35 


picture  from  your  description.  Pray  attend  to  this 
suggestion,  or  all  that  you  describe  will  be  but  as  an 
unsubstantial  dream,  and  almost  valueless. 

You  will  be  quite  weary  of  my  requests,  but  it 
was  you  yourself  avuo  offered  to  fulfil  them. 

I  am  here  alone,  and  but  for  a  short  time ;  I  wish 
you,  however,  to  direct  your  letters  as  before,  for,  if 
I  should  have  left,  they  will  be  forwarded  to  me  at 
Berlin,  to  which  I  am  about  to  return.  Recollect 
the  direction — Burgörner,  near  Hettstädt.  Fare- 
well, dear  Charlotte !  With  unchangeable  regard, 
I  remain,  Yours,  H. 


LETTER  IX. 

Tegel,  ioth  July,  1822. 

I have  requested  you  before,  I  believe,  to  direct 
your  letters  to  Berlin,  which  is  a  safer  way  than 
sending  them  to  Tegel  direct.  At  this  place  I 
passed  my  childhood,  and  the  greater  part  of  my 
youth,  and  love  it  dearly.  It  is  by  far  the  prettiest 
place  about  Berlin.  On  one  side  banded  by  massy 
woods,  and  on  the  other  by  picturesque  hills;  the 

view  stretches  far  away  in  front  over  to  a  lake 

3 


3tö 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


studded  with  islands.  The  house  in  which  I  am 
now  residing  is  surrounded  by  lofty  trees,  which, 
when  I  was  young,  were  young,  but  now  are  old.  I 
am  building  a  new  house  here,  which  is  already 
half  finished,  and  which,  adorned  with  such  pictures 
and  marbles  as  I  have,  will  be  quite  a  pretty  resi- 
dence, leaving  me  little  desire  to  visit  the  crowded 
busy  town. 

Many  thanks  for  your  letters  of  the  25th  of  June, 
and  of  the  3d  inst.  I  did  not  answer  the  first,  in 
which  you  besought  me  so  earnestly  to  write  to  you 
directly,  because  I  knew  that  you  would  by  that 
time  have  received  my  letter  which  I  had  previously 
despatched. 

You  need  have  no  fear  that  I  shall  blame  or  op- 
pose your  inclination  to  solitude.  It  was  very 
kindly  meant  of  your  venerable  friend,  C,  to  coun- 
sel you  to  enter  into  society,  but  I  am  so  far  from 
being  of  his  opinion  that  I  am  rather  inclined  to 
urge  a  more  rigorous  solitude.  I  was  formerly  ac- 
customed, as  so  many  always  are,  to  consider  what 
I  liked,  rather  than  what  was  suited  to  my  disposi- 
tion. But  I  think  it  much  better  for  a  man  to  love 
solitude,  and  if  he  do  not  love  it,  to  learn  to  love  it. 
That  is  my  opinion. 

I  wish  to  thank  you  by-the-by  for  the  account 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


37 


which  you  gave  me  of  the  little  brook  which  ran 
through  the  garden  round  your  house,  with  a  little 
narrow  bridge  across  it.  Such  little  features  as 
these  present  a  whole  scene  to  the  mind's  eye.  But 
recollect  that  I  am  anxious  to  know  what  lay  beyond 
the  brook. 

I  thank  you  very  sincerely,  also,  for  the  sketch 
which  you  sent  me  in  answer  to  my  question,  by 
which  I  was  much  interested.  How  delightful  it  is 
to  learn  the  views  of  a  mind,  which,  however  much 
it  may  sympathize  with,  must  still  be  so  unlike  my 
own,  on  the  men  and  things  which  have  surrounded 
its  path  in  life.  In  such  views  there  may  appear 
much  that  is  defective,  much  that  is  unjust;  but 
they  are  true  and  natural,  and  therefore  interesting, 
for  we  ever  look  from  the  sketch  to  the  individual. 
They  are  also  in  a  high  degree  instructive,  because 
one  can  by  no  means  so  represent  objects  to  him- 
self, and  the  worth,  the  impression,  and  the  efficacy 
of  things,  are  only  measured  according  to  a  general 
rule,  so  that  everything  is  viewed  in  connection 
with  modes  of  thinking,  character,  education,  and 
outward  circumstances.  One  must  always  honor 
the  views  of  individuals,  however  adverse  we  may 
be  to  their  particular  sentiments.  The  character 
which  you  give  of  me  is  very,  very  kind  and  flatter- 


38 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


ing ;  but  I  may  add  that  I  am  certainly  incapable  of 
forgetting  or  giving  up  any  whom  I  may  have 
known,  and  rather  follow  the  least  trace  which 
leads  to  the  history  of  their  past  lives,  with  the 
greatest  assiduity.  I  retain  with  an  eager  grasp 
my  friendships  and  even  usual  acquaintanceships ; 
life,  indeed,  is  at  the  best  such  a  piece  of  patchwork, 
that  a  man  does  well  to  take  especial  care  of  all  the 
pieces.  It  generally  happens  that  those  whom  we 
recollect,  retain  a  great  similarity  to  our  recollections ; 
but  even  when  this  is  not  the  case,  I  love  to  watch 
the  changes  and  chances  of  the  characters  which 
cross  the  drama  of  my  life,  although  I  may  feel  no 
real  or  lasting  interest  in  their  fate.  You  have  not 
thought  of  me  in  this  way,  retaining,  as  you  do 
after  many  years,  so  faithful  and  strong  a  remem- 
brance of  me,  without  having  received  a  single  indi- 
cation of  my  recollecting  you  in  return.  I  need 
not  say  how  large  a  space  you  occupy  in  my 
thoughts.  I  gladly  fulfil  all  the  requests  which  you 
have  made. 

You  have  repeated  your  wish  that  I  would  con- 
sent to  your  preserving  my  letters.  Now  you  must 
know,  my  dear  Charlotte,  that  I  am  a  great  enemy 
of  old  letters,  and  never  preserve  any  that  I  can 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


39 


safely  destroy,  even  though  they  contain  nothing 
that  can  prove  in  the  slightest  degree  disadvanta- 
geous to  any  one.  A  letter  is  but  the  voice  of  a 
man  speaking  to  one  afar  off,  and  he  has  no  wish 
that  it  should  have  a  longer  existence  than  words 
which  are  spoken  and  vanish.  The  impression 
which  he  wishes  to  give  will  remain,  though  the 
letter  be  destroyed,  to  be  strengthened  or  altered  by 
those  which  succeed. 

As  you,  however,  seem  to  value  my  letters  so 
much,  and  ask  permission  to  preserve  them  so  ear- 
nestly, I  cannot  refuse.  It  is  very  kind  and  good 
of  you  to  say  that  they  are  exactly  suited  to  your 
wants.  Of  this  I  am  quite  sure,  that  I  never  write 
a  line  which  I  could  not  defend,  and  this  makes  me 
the  less  anxious  about  the  fate  of  my  compositions. 
My  simple  reason  for  requesting  you  to  burn  them 
was,  as  I  have  said,  my  dislike  to  the  preservation 
of  old  letters.  I  dislike  even  to  read  them.  As  you 
think  differently,  pray  have  your  wish,  which  I  am 
delighted  to  gratify,  as  you  so  seldom  express  one. 
Farewell,  dearest  Charlotte !  let  me  have  a  place 
in  your  thoughts,  and  be  sure  that  mine  often 
follow  you  into  your  solitude. 

Yours,  H. 


4(1 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


You  express  wonder  that  amidst  the  distracting 
cares  and  occupations  of  my  life  I  should  have  re- 
tained a  love  for  inquiring  into  the  minds  of  others, 
and  the  sensibilities  of  the  soul.  The  truth  is  that 
this  has  ever  been  the  work  of  my  inner  being,  as 
to  which  all  other  occupations  appear  but  as  acci- 
dents, leaving  me  in  undisturbed  possession  of  my- 
self. By  such  studies  as  this  alone  can  a  man  hope 
to  grow  better.  The  growth  of  the  mind  of  man, 
the  ideas  which  fill  and  throng  around  it,  have  ever 
had  for  me  an  inexpressible  charm.  I  made  my 
first  experiments  on  myself,  and  have  attained,  I 
believe,  by  a  careful  examination  of  my  own  expe- 
riences, to  some  knowledge  of  the  character  and  ten- 
dencies of  my  spirit.  Thus  my  endeavors  have 
ever  been  directed  towards  two  objects,  the  one  to 
attain  a  perfect  knowledge  of  every  phase  of  life, 
and  the  other,  to  be  dependent  on  no  one,  not  even 
on  fortune  herself,  but  to  stand  firmly  on  my  own 
vantage-ground,  and  to  rely  on  my  own  resources. 
I  have  attained  both  these  to  a  considerable  degree. 
I  am  acquainted  with  all  the  joys  of  life.  The  sim- 
plest event  of  a  cheerful  nature,  or  bearing  the 
promise  of  joy,  has  filled  me  with  real  and  substan- 
tial delight.  No  man  can  be  so  thankful  as  I  am, 
because  none  can  have  such  reason  to  be  thankful. 


HUM  HOLD  T  'S  LE  TTERS. 


Some  never  find  happiness,  and  others  when  they 
find  it  know  not  half  its  resources,  half  its  secrets. 
Another  reason  why  I  am  happy  beyond  other  men. 
is,  that  few  men  have  so  few  wants  as  I ;  the  satis- 
fying of  a  want  is  but  the  stilling  of  a  pain,  and  is 
opposed  to  all  pure  reposeful  enjoyment. 

To  yield  to  another's  wish,  simply  because  it  is 
another's  wish,  however  opposed  it  may  be  to  his 
own,  is  the  duty  of  every  man,  and  I  should  despise 
myself  if  I  could  not  do  so.  Such  a  submission  and 
self-conquest  makes  the  disposition  milder  and  gentler, 
but  at  the  same  time,  strange  as  it  may  appear, 
firmer  and  freer. 


LETTER  X. 

Burgörner,  July,  1822. 

Dear  Charlotte, 

I thank  you  for  your  last  two  letters  as  heartily 
as  they  delighted  me.  The  kindness  and  love 
which  you  show  me  do  my  heart  good,  and  as  I 
know  that  when  you  speak  of  me,  you  speak  as  you 
respect  me  and  not  as  I  am,  I  consider  it  a  very 
pleasing  additional  proof  and  consequence  of  the 
amiability  of  your  disposition.    Your  reminiscences 


42 


Hi  MB  OL  DT  'S  LETTERS. 


of  Pyrmont  have  delighted  me  very  much  ;  the  more 
especially  as  my  own  mind  is  full,  very  full,  of  re- 
collections of  the  happy  time  I  spent  there.  My 
memory  still  retains  many  of  our  conversations. 
There  was  in  those  times,  I  recollect,  a  great  differ- 
ence of  ideas  respecting  poetry  and  human  character, 
which  always  are,  or  should  be,  closely  united.  The 
one  party  preferred  Klopstock,  Stolberg,  and  all 
those  poets  and  dramatists  who  adhere  to  the  old 
rules ;  whilst  the  other  identified  itself  with  Goethe, 
Schiller,  (whose  only  works  were  then  The  Robbers, 
Fiesco,)  and  all  that  class  of  writers,  who,  discard- 
ing the  beaten  track,  struck  out  new  orbits  for  them- 
selves. I  was  undecided  as  to  which  to  choose,  and 
you,  if  I  judge  rightly,  were  inclined  to  favor  the 
former  class,  at  least  you  did  not  like  Schiller's 
poems.  I  keep  this  in  mind,  and  have  much  plea- 
sure in  observing,  without  any  reference  to  our  in- 
dividuality, the  marvellous  change  which  has  taken 
place  in  our  minds  since  then,  in  the  period  of  a 
very  few  years.  I  wish,  my  dear  Charlotte,  to  linger 
as  long  as  possible  over  the  days  of  your  childhood, 
and,  I  will  repeat,  shall  consider  the  careful  prose- 
cution of  your  undertaking  as  a  peculiar  favor.  Let 
me  know  exactly  what  books  you  had  read  when  a 
girl,  that  you  had  attained  so  great  a  power  of  think- 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


43 


ing  deeply  and  acutely.  You  have  observed  that 
any  one  could  handle  the  subject  of  his  own  char- 
acter,— with  this  I  cannot  agree.  With  respect  to 
your  proposition,  "  To  treat  every  one  according  to 
his  character,"  your  sentiments  are  different  from 
mine,  although  I  commonly  do  it  for  several  reasons, 
one  of  which  is,  that  it  leads  direct  to  one's  object; 
another,  that  I  am  not  called  upon  to  reform  men's 
characters ;  and  a  third,  that  to  do  so  leaves  them 
happier  than  another  mode  of  treatment  would,  and 
it  is  a  pleasant  thing  to  see  happy  people  around  us. 
But  I  must  confess  I  am  very  unwilling,  and  hinder 
it,  as  far  as  possible,  that  men  should  treat  me 
according  to  mine.  For  what  is  this  but  to  confirm 
a  man's  character,  and  to  treat  it  as  though  it  were 
unalterable  ?  No  man's  character  is  without  sin, 
and  to  treat  it  as  though  it  were  unchangeable,  is  to 
consider  it  irreclaimable.  I  have  frequently  been 
deeply  pained  by  the  attempts  which  some  have 
made  to  humor  my  character;  but  I  bear  in  mind 
that  such  a  pain  as  this  is  always  healthful,  and  that 
perfect  freedom  from  pain  is  not  the  highest  good. 
I  am  very  little  solicitous  to  treat  according  to  their 
characters  those  of  my  confidential  friends  whom  I 
know  to  be  men  fearless  of  salutary  pain,  eager  to 
know  and  to  vanquish  themselves ;  and  by  this 


44 


IIUMHQLÜT'S  LETTERS. 


means  I  probably  appear  to  less  advantage  in  the 
circle  of  my  intimate  aequaintances  than  amongst 
strangers.  It  was  with  considerable  pain  that  I  dis- 
covered from  a  single  expression  that  you  were 
unwell,  and  think  that  you  may  be  so  still.  Take 
care  of  yourself,  dear  Charlotte  ;  take  great  care  of 
yourself,  if  not  for  your  own  sake,  for  mine.  I  am 
ever  solicitous  respecting  your  ease,  happiness,  and 
health.  Women  are  both  more  and  less  fortunate 
than  men,  in  respect  to  their  occupations  being  of  a 
nature  which  leaves  them  for  the  most  part  at  full 
liberty  to  think  of  totally  different  matters.  This  I 
am  inclined  to  call  a  piece  of  great  good  fortune. 
For  they  can  thus  live  in  their  inner  being,  and 
enjoy  communion  with  their  souls,  without  being 
disturbed  in,  or  distracted  from,  their  ordinary  labors. 
This  is  the  chief  reason  why  most  women  are  supe- 
rior to  men  in  the  more  subtle  and  extensive  know- 
ledge of  themselves  and  others.  But  if  the  subject 
of  their  thoughts  be  sad,  or  even  not  perfectly  free 
from  any  worldly  taint,  they  are  in  danger  of  en- 
during a  far  greater  amount  of  misery  than  men 
who,  even  involuntarily,  are  drawn  away  from 
revery  and  contemplation  by  their  active  occupa- 
tions. Do  not  suppose  that  I  shall  object  to  your 
decided  inclination  to  solitude.    Just  the  contrary: 


HUM  BOLD  T '  8  L  E  TTEBS. 


45 


I  was  very  much  pleased  by  the  description  in  your 
last  letter  of  your  little  country-house  and  garden ; 
it  is  very  agreeable  to  have  some  idea  of  the  scenes 
and  circumstances  around  those  whom  we  love. 
Solitude  is  of  great  value  to  a  woman,  elevating  her 
soul,  so  tender  and  earnest  in  itself,  purifying  and 
withdrawing  it  from  all  those  little,  mean  and  dis- 
tracting pursuits  into  which  women  fall  so  much 
more  easily  than  men.  There  are  women  also  who 
love  solitude,  and  live  in  it;  who  realize  the  idea 
that  they  seek  no  joy  but  that  which  flows  from  the 
depth  of  their  own  inner  being;  and  that  is  the 
main  requirement  to  render  them  objects  of  unchange- 
able interest  to  men,  who  are  themselves  capable  of 
deep  and  profound  feeling. 

Very  few  people  understand  what  infinite  advan- 
tages exist  in  solitude,  especially  for  a  woman.  If 
she  be  married  and  have  children,  her  family  circle 
is  her  solitude ;  if  the  contrary  be  the  case,  her  soli- 
tude is  absolute ;  one  in  which  she  will  actually  live 
alone. 

Prosperity  passes  away,  leaving  scarcely  a  trace 
of  its  existence ;  and  so  to  speak,  should  not  be 
called  happiness,  for  it  gives  no  lasting  good.  When 
unhappiness  passes  away,  which  is  a  great  comfort 


46 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


of  itself,  it  leaves  deep  traces  behind,  most  health- 
ful, strengthening,  and  purifying  to  those  who  know 
how  to  use  them.  It  is  a  peculiarity  of  human  life 
that  when  a  man  takes  no  thought  of  good  or  bad 
fortune,  but  only  of  duty,  happiness  is  sure  to  pre- 
vail, however  wretched  his  lot  may  originally  have 
been.  I  have  frequently  observed  that  women, 
married  unhappily,  have  obtained  by  this  means  a 
large  amount  of  happiness.    Farewell ! 

Yours,  H. 


LETTER  XI. 

Berlin,  2d  December,  1822. 

Dear  Charlotte, 

I have  received  your  letters,  and  return  my  hearty 
thanks.  To  hear  from  you  is  one  of  the  greatest 
pleasures  of  my  life,  and  the  more  conscious  I  be- 
come of  your  amiable  and  faithful  affection,  the 
deeper  is  the  impression  which  I  receive  from  your 
writings.  The  remembrance  of  the  past  fits  me  for 
the  enjoyment  of  the  present,  and  I  consider  it  one 
of  the  most  fortunate  occurrences  of  my  life,  that 
you  should  have  given  me  a  place  in  your  thoughts, 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


47 


that  you  should  continue  to  esteem  my  sympathy, 
and  enter  into  my  ideas,  and  I  regard  it  as  happy 
for  yourself  and  a  credit  to  me,  that  I  retain  those 
sentiments  from  which  I  can  never  part  till  death. 
Your  flattery  would  make  me  proud  if  I  had  any 
pretension  to  the  merits  for  which  you  give  me 
credit.  I  am  as  conscious  as  any  man  of  my  faults 
and  weaknesses,  and  know  also  that  it  cannot  be 
deemed  a  merit  that  fortune  allowed  me  to  discover 
excellence  and  worth  in  another,  and  that,  when  I 
had  discovered  it,  I  preserved  it  in  the  depths  of 
my  soul,  and  am  unable  to  part  from  it.  Such  a 
happiness  as  this  fortune  granted  me  when  she  gave 
me  your  acquaintance,  your  friendship,  your  esteem, 
and  your  confidence.  I  reckon  it  among  Nature's 
best  gifts  that  I  never  fear  misfortune,  even  when  it 
actually  stands  on  my  threshold ;  and,  as  it  some- 
times has  done,  attacks  me  very  violently.  I  look 
upon  it  as  an  uncheerful,  but  \>j  no  means  as  an  evil 
companion.  Still,  thinking  thus  lightly  as  I  do  of 
misfortune,  I  prize  inexpressibly  all  good  fortune. 
Pure  good  fortune  I  consider  that  which  proceeds 
directly  from  God,  without  the  intervention  of 
human  efforts,  and  of  this  sort  was  my  meeting  with 
you,  whereby  my  mind  became  filled  with  an  image 
which  it  ever  has  and  ever  will  retain,  without 


48  HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 

losing  any  of  its  peace.  However  much  I  might 
disapprove  of  your  actions,  to  imagine  for  an  instant 
the  possibility  of  such  a  thing,  your  image  in  my 
heart  would  ever  remain  pure  and  unprofaned. 
Your  actions  might  be  as  those  of  other  people,  but 
would  have  no  effect  on  the  features  which  form 
this  picture.  For  every  man,  however  good  he  may 
be,  bears  within  himself  a  certain  ideal,  which  is 
more  peculiarly  himself,  although  he  may  sometimes 
be  untrue  to  its  principles ;  and  to  this  inner  and 
unchangeable  essence  must  a  man  ever  adhere,  and 
pardon  many  offences,  if  they  have  not  touched  or 
proceeded  from  this  deeper  being.  Thus  I  never 
dreamed  of  the  treasure  of  love  and  faithfulness 
which  you  preserved  for  me  so  many  years.  How 
can  I  help  being  happy  ?  Those  sentiments  which 
you  foster  for  me,  and  those  feelings  which  speak  in 
all  your  letters,  are  the  source  from  which  flows  our 
interchange  of  thoughts,  the  light  and  colors  which 
adorn  the  union  of  our  souls.  From  this  proceeds 
the  great  charm  which  I  feel  in  perusing  your 
biography.  The  more  I  learn  of  the  influences 
under  which  you  grew  up,  the  better  idea  I  have 
of  the  features  of  your  soul,  the  realization  of  which 
engages  my  willing  and  earnest  attention.  The 
pleasures  of  imagination  I  consider  the  greatest  of 


HUMBOLDT  'S  LETTERS 


49 


which  man  is  susceptible,  preferring  them  in  many- 
respects  to  those  of  reality.  In  the  latter  there  is 
always  something  disturbing,  something  distracting, 
but  the  former  are  ever  pure,  the  results  of  the 
greatest  and  noblest  thoughts  of  a  man's  mind  ;  of 
the  most  earnest  aspirations  of  his  spirit.  To  live 
in  the  midst  of  such  enjoyments  as  these  is  real 
happiness,  undisturbed  by  any  outward  troubles, 
because  independent  of  all  outward  circumstances. 
But  yet  few  men  have  a  taste  for  these  things, 
which  are  a  dead  letter  to  all  who  renounce  sensi- 
bility and  moral  sentiment  for  the  pleasures  of 
reality.  From  such  desires  I  have  ever  been  free, 
and  have  had,  therefore,  the  more  leisure  and  in- 
clination for  the  enjoyment  of  contemplation  and 
revery,  without  ever  giving  myself  up  to  illusions 
or  false  enthusiasm. 

Dear  Charlotte, — You  have  for  some  time  re- 
quested me  to  give  you  an  account  of  my  relations, 
and  have  now  repeated  your  wish  so  gently,  that  I 
reproach  myself  for  not  having  attended  to  it  before. 
The  near  relations,  you  say,  of  men  whom  they 
admire  are  inexpressibly  dear  to  women,  who  love 
his  children  as  part  of  his  being,  and  his  wife  as  his 
companion  through  life,  in  proportion  as  they  make 


50 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


him  happy.  Knowing,  as  I  do,  the  worth  of  the 
fountains  whence  these  expressions  flow,  I  thank 
you  for  them  right  heartily.  I  have  delayed  this 
subject  from  letter  to  letter,  because  I  have  usually 
come  to  my  last  page  and  last  quarter  of  an  hour 
without  having  reached  it  in  due  course.  I  will 
begin  with  my  wife,  as  I  do  not  remember  whether 
or  not  you  know  much  about  her,  and  pray  you  to 
pardon  me  if  I  repeat  what  you  have  already  heard. 

In  her  youth  she  was  very  beautiful,  and  although 
she  has  had  eight  children,  appears  still  young. 
Her  health  has  for  some  time  past  been  very  bad, 
but  illness  has  neither  made  her  irritable,  nor  de- 
stroyed her  natural  cheerfulness.  Burgörner  is  her 
estate,  and  Tegel  and  the  Silesian  mine.  Our  mar- 
riage was  a  love  affair,  and  had  nothing  to  do  with 
the  negotiations  of  parents  or  friends.  During  the 
thirty-one  years  since  our  marriage  day,  we  have 
neither  of  us  caused  the  other  an  unhappy  moment, 
and  our  love  is  the  same  now  as  then,  except  that  it 
has  gained  a  brighter  and  intenser  hue.  As  we  are 
both  naturally  cheerful,  our  union  retains  to  this 
day  a  much  more  youthful  character  than  could  be 
expected.  My  occupations  have  separated  us  very 
much,  but  since  I  have  enjoyed  leisure  from  busi- 
ness, we  have  been  almost  constantly  in  each  other's 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS.  51 

company,  and  the  delight  which  this  has  been  to  me 
will  prevent  me  from  entering  again  into  active  life. 
Directly  after  my  marriage  I  received  an  appoint- 
ment, which  I  kept  for  ten  years,  and  resided  with 
my  wife  during  that  time  in  France  and  Spain.  I 
will  shortly  notice  the  present  state  of  my  family, 
and  mode  of  life.  Of  the  latter  it  may  be  sufficient 
to  say,  that  I  seldom  set  foot  in  the  town,  but  pass 
my  whole  time  with  my  wife,  either  sitting  within 
doors,  or  taking  walks  in  the  country.  Of  my 
family,  as  I  before  told  you,  I  have  lost  three  chil- 
dren, one  in  Paris  and  two  in  Rome ;  and  we  now 
have  three  daughters  and  two  sons.  Our  eldest 
daughter  dislikes  to  marry,  and  is  glad  to  live  with 
us,  who  are  as  glad  of  her  company.  Our  other 
daughters  are  married ;  the  second  to  a  lieutenant- 
colonel  Yon  Hedemann,  with  whom  she  lives  very 
happily,  and  the  youngest  to  Privy-councillor  Bü- 
low,  who  was  my  legation  secretary  in  London,  and 
now  holds  an  office  in  the  foreign  department.  She 
has  a  daughter  almost  a  year  old,  and  lives  a  very 
happy  and  domestic  life.  My  youngest  son  is  at 
home  under  my  own  superintendence,  and  my 
eldest,  who  has  married  a  very  beautiful  and  amia- 
ble wife,  is  a  cavalry  officer  at  Breslau,  and  has  as 

y;et  no  children.    You  know  enough  to  form  a  tol- 
4 


52 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTER 8. 


erably  accurate  idea  of  my  family  and  mode  of  life. 
I  see  few  people  besides  my  own  family,  and  seldom 
visit  any  but  very  old  acquaintances. 

I  must  now  conclude,  bidding  you,  my  dear  Char- 
lotte, a  hearty  farewell,  and  assuring  you  that  I  re- 
main, with  warm  and  unchangeable  affection, 

Yours,  H. 


LETTER  XII. 

Berlin,  Dec.  27,  1822. 

IT  is  with  great  pleasure  that  I  sit  down  at  my 
desk  to  answer  your  last  letter,  which  delighted 
me,  as  everything  does,  which  comes  from  you.  I 
can  scarcely  be  grieved  that  you  were  concerned  at 
my  long  silence,  as  it  has  been  the  occasion  of  my 
receiving  an  additional  letter  ;  but  must  entreat  you 
not  to  be  anxious  when  you  do  not  hear  from  me 
just  when  you  expected.  I  am  so  seldom  ill,  that 
you  should  not  imagine  that  to  be  the  cause ;  and, 
as  for  any  change  in  my  affection,  it  is  impossible 
with  my  character,  and  impossible  from  that  deep 
admiration  with  which  you  inspired  me.  That  I  am 
sometimes  dilatory  in  writing,  proceeds  from  some 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTE  HS. 


53 


accidental  circumstance  over  which  I  have  no  con- 
trol. Although  I  have  no  particular  business  of  any- 
kind,  I  am  much  busier  than  most  men  who  are 
occupied ;  and  I  live  by  no  means,  as  many  others, 
so  as  to  follow  only  my  own  pleasures  and  inclina- 
tions. My  hours  from  morning  till  night, — and  I 
never  go  to  bed  before  one  o'clock, — are  regularly 
apportioned.  With  the  exception  of  dinner  time,  I 
spend  only  two  hours,  and  that  in  the  evening,  with 
my  family.  I  see  very  little  company,  and  pass 
most  of  my  time  with  my  books  and  papers,  leading 
a  very  studious  life,  and  occupying  myself  with  ex- 
tensive inquiries  in  learning  and  literature,  which 
often  interrupt  my  correspondence  with  my  friends, 
but  with  you  less  than  any.  I  sometimes  wonder, 
indeed,  that  I  write  such  long  letters  to  you  as  I 
do;  the  truth  being,  that  my  thoughts  naturally 
turn  towards  you,  and  that  I  am  urged  to  this  ac- 
tivity the  rather,  because  my  letters  occasion  yours, 
which  I  read  with  so  much  pleasure, — which  I  can 
always  find  time  to  read, — at  the  sight  of  which  all 
distracting  thoughts  vanish.  One  can  always  think, 
but  it  is  not  always  so  easy  to  write.  You  will 
recollect,  dear  Charlotte,  that  at  the  commencement 
of  our  correspondence,  I  complained  of  my  want  of 


54 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


regularity  in  writing  letters, — you  now  find  that  I 
spoke  the  truth. 

I  am  very  glad  that  you  are  pleased  with  the 
short  account  which  I  gave  you  of  my  family, 
although  you  add,  "  I  could  have  wished  it  had 
been  fuller:  still  I  rejoice  at  having  thus  gained 
some  knowledge  of  your  family,  and  am  content." 
That  is  altogether  in  your  style,  and  I  praise  you  for 
that,  as  much  as  I  must  blame  you  for  fearing  lest 
you  should  have  expressed  your  sentiments  too 
freely.  Remember  that  you  have  written  your 
biography  for  me  alone.  Most  nobly  and  sincerely 
have  you  laid  open  before  me  the  first  feelings  of 
your  youthful  breast  in  my  behalf;  through  your 
whole  life  you  have  preserved  those  feelings,  and 
enshrined  my  image  in  your  heart,  without  ever 
receiving  through  the  whole  time  one  sign  of  my 
recollection.  All  that  you  possessed  to  keep  me  in 
memory,  were  a  few  lines  which  I  had  written. 
This  is  enough  to  move  any  man's  gratitude  and 
admiration ;  but  any  man  as  sensible  of  its  value  as 
I  am,  would  consider  it  as  a  piece  of  singular  good 
fortune,  or  rather  as  an  especial  gift  of  Providence. 
There  is  no  room  in  this  for  the  slightest  shade  of 
reproach,  or  the  least  breath  of  calumny.  I  will  not 
allow  you,  you  see,  to  reclaim  what  you  have  once 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


55 


bestowed.  I  will  not  be  deprived  of  my  possession 
by  any  little  scruples  on  your  part.  If  I  err,  my 
heart  does  not.  I  am  not  a  slave  to  any  narrow- 
minded  ideas  of  propriety,  current  with  the  world 
though  they  be.  If  one  is  pure  in  oneself,  an  inter- 
change of  feelings  with  another,  breaks  no  rule  of 
right;  for  my  own  part  (I  cannot  answer  for  the 
conscience  of  another)  I  can  declare  to  you  with  a 
good  conscience,  every  feeling  of  my  heart  which  is 
pure  and  undisguised.  You  see,  then,  that  as  I 
have  just  said,  I  will  keep  what  I  have. 

If  you  had  not,  very  naturally  I  must  confess,  de- 
manded it,  I  should  have  been  silent  respecting  my 
family  life. 

Therefore,  still  again,  I  wish  that  you  would  not 
desire  to  obliterate  a  single  line,  or  even  a  single 
word.  I  love  to  think  on  all  that  you  have  written 
to  me,  in  which  your  feelings  beam  with  such  a 
pure  and  lustrous  light.  I  wish,  above  all  things, 
that  our  correspondence  may  give  you  pure  unsul- 
lied joy.  I  carry  it  on  for  no  other  purpose  than  to 
strengthen  and  refresh  those  recollections,  which  I 
love  more  every  day  that  I  live,  and  to  afford  you 
happiness. 

You  will  not  wonder  that  I  give  you  this  informa- 
tion so  late,  as  I  simply  give  it  at  your  especial  re- 


56 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


quest.  It  is  very  contrary  to  my  disposition,  to  de- 
clare to  any  but  the  individuals  themselves,  the  sen- 
timents with  which  they  inspire  me.  I  am  well 
aware  that  mutually  to  impart  their  joys  and  sor- 
rows, and  to  live,  as  it  is  said,  in  one  another,  is 
usually  reckoned  an  indispensable  attribute  of 
friends.  Now,  for  my  own  part,  I  have  experi- 
enced great  joys  and  great  sorrows,  which  I  never 
felt  inclined  to  impart  to  my  most  intimate  friends. 
I  care  very  little  for  the  accidents  of  life ;  and,  as 
far  as  respects  myself,  (not  as  regards  others,  God 
knows,)  I  consider  joy  and  sorrow  as  its  least  im- 
portant circumstances.  I  know,  thank  God,  that 
there  are  better  subjects  for  discourse  between  such 
friends  as  you  and  I,  than  the  acts  of  the  world  that 
jostles  about  us.  I  act  thus  with  my  wife  and  chil- 
dren. They  know,  for  the  most  part,  nothing  of  my 
occupations ;  and  my  wife  is  so  much  of  my  mind  in 
this  matter,  that  if  I  tell  her,  for  some  reason  or 
other,  or  she  learns  by  accident,  anything  which  I 
have  done  or  may  be  doing,  of  which  she  was  totally 
ignorant,  she  does  not  think  it  in  the  slightest  de- 
gree strange.  Friendship  and  love  demand  the  most 
entire  confidence,  and  with  inquisitive  souls  there 
is  no  confidence.  Farewell!  With  unchangeable 
affection  I  remain  yours,  H. 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


57 


LETTER  XIII. 


Berlin,  Feb.  14,  1823. 


Dear  Charlotte, 

tou  are  quite  dumb,  and  have  been  utterly  re- 


JL  gardless  of  the  request  which  I  made  to  you  a 
week  ago,  to  break  your  silence.  I  have  looked 
anxiously  for  a  letter  every  post  day.  I  should  fear 
that  you  were  ill  did  I  not  feel  sure  that  you  would 
at  least  have  written  a  line  to  let  me  know,  unless 
you  were  very  ill  indeed.  This  cold  weather  is  very 
likely  to  have  a  bad  effect  on  your  health.  I  be- 
seech you,  therefore,  to  remove  my  anxiety  by 
writing  as  soon  as  possible.  I  shall  become  very 
uneasy  if  I  still  have  no  letter.  As  for  myself,  I 
am  very  well,  but  very  busy,  for  my  brother  has 
been  staying  with  me  a  month ;  and  now  that  he 
has  returned  to  Paris,  I  have  to  work  hard  to  re- 
cover the  arrears  of  my  various  occupations,  which 
I  scarcely  hope  to  do  under  a  fortnight.  Let  this 
be  the  excuse  for  the  shortness  of  my  letter.  As 
you  like  long  letters,  my  last  must  have  pleased  you 
very  much ;  it  was  very  clearly  written,  and  filled  a 
whole  sheet.  Farewell !  Write  immediately. 
Yours,  with  unchanging  affection,  H. 


58 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


LETTER  XIV. 

Berlin,  March  14,  1823. 

Dear  Charlotte, 

I have  received  your  letters  and  their  contents,  for 
which  I  return  you  my  hearty  thanks.  Nothing 
could  be  better  arranged  than  this  second  part  of 
your  biography.  The  very  pleasant  character  of  the 
writing,  and  extraordinarily  careful  arrangement 
into  chapters,  make  it  as  easy  to  read  as  a  book. 
It  will  be  better,  I  now  think,  that  you  should  fol- 
low the  arrangement  of  subjects,  rather  than  that  of 
chronology,  which  I  at  first  recommended.  I  have 
the  less  scruple  in  setting  you  about  this  task,  as  I 
know  that  it  must  be  very  interesting  to  yourself, 
that  you  are  kind  enough  to  find  a  pleasure  in 
obliging  me,  and  that  you  would  certainly  employ 
your  leisure  time  in  the  pursuit  of  some  object — if 
not  of  this.  But  I  should  be  exceedingly  distressed 
if  you  really  considered  it  a  task,  a  tax  on  your 
time,  and  an  obligation,  when  other  business  might 
compel  you  to  leave  it  for  a  time,  to  excessive  exer- 
tion. I  wish  you  to  do  nothing  but  what  is  per- 
fectly consistent  with  your  ease,  and  accordant  with 
your  tastes.    These  observations  have  been  called 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


59 


forth  by  the  great  length  of  your  last  papers ;  from 
which,  however,  long  as  they  are,  you  will  doubt- 
less have  learned  that  your  fear  that  copiousness 
would  make  your  undertaking  endless,  was  without 
foundation.  I  can,  certainly,  no  longer  reproach 
you  with  excessive  brevity,  for  it  is  easy  to  judge, 
from  the  writings  themselves,  that  you  wrote  until 
you  had  exhausted  your  memory.  You  have  over- 
looked nothing, — all  the  persons  whom  you  mention 
are  sketched  to  the  life,  and  no  features  are  wanting 
in  the  pictures  which  you  have  drawn.  Your  two 
grandmothers  are  very  interesting  characters,  most 
excellent  women,  of  whose  dispositions  your  own 
retains  very  marked  traces.  Of  course  the  pictures 
of  the  simple  life  of  a  moderately  prosperous  family 
can  offer  no  very  striking  points.  And  this  makes 
it  the  more  difficult  to  remember  and  describe  its 
every-day  events.  For  the  efforts  which,  for  my 
sake,  you  have  directed  towards  this  object,  I  give 
you  my  hearty  thanks.  Leading  so  simple  and 
quiet  a  life  as  I  do,  I  have  been  greatly  charmed  to 
find  its  exact  counterpart  in  your  narrative.  I  must 
praise  this  last  part  of  your  biography  very  much 
beyond  the  former,  for  its  unbroken  easiness  of  nar- 
ration, for  its  vivid  and  picturesque  descriptions. 
Although  I  read  with  much  pleasure  the  observa- 


6t) 


HUMBOLD  T  'S  LETTERS. 


tions  with  which  you  interspersed  the  early  part  of 
your  narration,  a  narrative  is  chiefly  charming  as  it 
passes  before  the  reader  with  the  semblance  of 
reality,  and  is  not  disturbed  or  interrupted  by  the 
appearance  of  the  author.  In  the  present  case — but 
you  must  not  think  that  I  declare  war  against  all 
reflections,  and  forbid  yourself  every  observation, 
(this  is  by  no  means  my  intention) — I  find  more  to 
praise  in  the  manner  in  which  you  have  executed 
your  task,  than  I  should  have  found  to  blame  had  it 
been  performed  in  another,  for  you  would  certainly 
have  understood  how  to  lend  a  charm  to  this  also. 
But  I  must  repeat,  that  a  narration  is  better  and 
more  attractive  in  proportion  as  the  narrator  keeps 
behind  the  scenes,  by  which,  however,  he  is  not  ac- 
tually concealed,  but  is  discovered  in  his  narrative 
most  distinctly  and  vividly.  I  was  very  pleased 
with  the  sketches  which  you  have  added ;  they  are 
to  the  very  life,  and  are  a  great  addition  to  the 
reality  and  accuracy  of  the  whole  picture.  I  may 
mention,  particularly,  the  description  of  the  outward 
aspect  of  your  father's  house,  which  is  peculiarly 
attractive.  You  have  contented  yourself  with  sim- 
ply mentioning  your  mother's  death.  I  pray  you 
not  to  pass  over  this  subject  so  lightly ;  but  if,  as  is 
very  probable,  you  have  reserved  it  for  another  and 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS.  61 

more  fitting  place,  I  should  rather  that  you  adhered 
to  your  plan.  But  if  you  do  not  intend  to  mention 
this  subject  again  in  your  regular  narrative,  I  wish 
you  to  make  it  the  subject  of  a  separate  chapter,  for 
it  has  an  especial  interest  for  me.  The  mischance 
in  the  matter  of  your  house,  which  was  so  healthful, 
pleasant,  and  suited  to  your  inclinations,  has  grieved 
me  very  much.  I  not  only  admit  but  share  the  dis- 
like with  which  you  now  regard  it,  and  perfectly  ap- 
prove of  your  determination  to  remove. 

I  am  very  thankful  to  find  that  you  confide  in  my 
sympathy  in  the  time  of  sorrow.  It  was  my  wish 
and  intention  to  obtain  a  healthful  influence  over 
you,  and  I  hope  that  I  have  obtained  it.  Let  me, 
by  means  of  this  influence,  alleviate  your  griefs. 
Again,  I  say,  trust  in  me,  who  would  be  a  stay  and 
support  to  none  more  willingly  than  to  you.  Fare- 
well! Be  calm,  and  believe  that  I  remain  yours, 
with  ever-enduring  affection,  H. 


62  HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


LETTER  XV. 

Berlin,  March  30,  1823. 

Dear  Charlotte, 

I was  very  grieved  to  find  the  depression  of  spirits 
in  which  your  letter  of  the  19th  instant  was 
written ;  but  was  also  pleased  to  observe  the  more 
cheerful  tone  of  the  conclusion,  which  convinces  me 
that  our  quiet  intercourse  has  a  beneficial  effect  on 
your  mind ;  and  this  makes  me  the  more  anxious 
that  you  should  not  persevere  in  your  intention  of 
concluding  it.  This  determination,  to  which  I  have 
no  intention  of  yielding,  can  have  only  proceeded 
from  great  depression  of  spirits.  It  is  very  kind  of 
you  to  wish,  as  you  say,  to  preserve  me  from  the 
burden  of  your  sorrows ;  but  should  I  not  be  as  un- 
easy at  your  silence,  if  I  knew  that  it  was  caused  by 
your  reserve,  as  if  I  knew  them  in  their  full  nature 
and  extent?  Be  assured  that  I  shall  ever  sympa- 
thize with  your  misfortunes,  as  I  do  in  this  case  of 
your  being  compelled  to  give  up  your  pleasant  and 
convenient  dwelling.  But  I  should  like  to  see  you, 
my  dear  Charlotte,  proof  against  these  annoyances 
of  outward  life ;  meeting  them  with  that  cheerful- 
ness which  so  much  conduces  to  the  peace  of  the 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


63 


soul.  You  will  not,  I  hope,  consider  this  a  very  bit- 
ter reproach — for  nothing  would  grieve  me  more 
than  to  give  you  pain ;  but  it  is  ever  my  habit  to 
speak  unreservedly  to  those  whom  I  love,  by  which 
our  friendship  becomes  stronger,  firmer,  and  more 
independent  of  outward  circumstances.  Be  not  an- 
gry, therefore,  at  the  open  manner  in  which  I  ad- 
dress you,  nor  look  upon  it  as  the  idle  talk  of  one 
who  is  preserved  by  circumstances  from  similar  an- 
noyances. Pain  is  not  dependent  on  outward  cir- 
cumstances, but  has  been  ordered  by  God  in  such  a 
manner,  that  the  most  favorable  condition  of  life  is 
no  protection  from  its  attacks. 

In  the  course  of  my  long  and  eventful  life,  my 
most  cherished  feelings  have  frequently  been,  some- 
times for  a  long,  sometimes  for  a  short  time,  rudely 
shocked.  I  am  by  no  means  a  stranger  to  your 
present  feelings,  and  so  entirely  dependent  are  we 
on  chance,  I  could  meet  every  one  of  your  distresses 
with  a  similar  one.  But,  as  you  rightly  observe, 
outward  affairs  engage  very  little  of  my  sympathy. 
To  exchange,  for  instance,  the  most  agreeable  for 
the  most  disagreeable  abode,  would  be  to  me  a  mat- 
ter of  perfect  indifference.  I  live  almost  entirely  in 
my  study ;  and,  in  spite  of  the  fine  weather,  have 
not  left  it  all  day  for  more  than  a  week,  except  to 


64 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


join  my  family  circle  in  a  neighboring  room.  I 
have  no  wants  of  the  kind  which  distress  you, 
except  the  chair  on  which  I  sit,  and  the  table  at 
which  I  write.  Any  room  is  the  same  to  me ;  and 
in  mine  you  would  find  no  luxuries,  no  mirrors,  no 
sofa.  What  I  mean  to  say  is,  that  things  of  this 
sort  never  trouble  me ;  and  I  wish,  although  many 
very  sensible  people  besides  yourself  consider  them 
of  moment,  that  you  would  no  longer  submit  to  be 
grieved  by  such  a  thing  as  a  change  of  residence. 
For  my  own  part  I  cannot  judge,  even  from  your 
own  showing,  that  you  are  so  unfortunate  in  being 
compelled  to  leave  a  house  which  you  liked,  as  in 
being  unable  to  find  another  quiet  garden-garlanded 
dwelling.  The  dampness  of  the  walls  of  your  pre- 
sent sleeping-room  frightens  me  very  much,  and  is, 
of  course,  intolerable.  I  know,  dear  Charlotte,  that 
in  spite  of  all  that  I  have  said,  your  loss  will  be  very 
great  until  you  are  once  more  comfortably  settled  ; 
but  under  all  circumstances,  there  remains  to  you 
resignation  to  bear  what  must  be  borne ;  the  enjoy- 
ment of  your  own  sweet  and  amiable  thoughts ;  the 
society  of  friends  whom  you  love ;  the  assurance  of 
a  good  conscience ;  and,  permit  me  to  add,  our  per- 
fect friendship  —  my  hearty  sympathy.  Every  man 
should  possess  a  certain  strength  and  boldness  with 


HUMBOLDT  'S  LETTERS. 


05 


which  to  meet  the  misfortunes,  which,  as  you  have 
learned,  may  come  upon  him  in  the  season  of  his 
greatest  prosperity  ;  but  which,  if  he  meet  them  cou- 
rageously, gradually  retreat,  and  leave  his  soul  in 
peace. 

I  often  think,  dear  Charlotte,  that  I  may  be  very 
different  from  the  picture  which  your  thoughts  may 
have  formed  of  me.  We  can  never  judge  rightly  of 
a  person's  character  whom  we  have  never  seen,  with 
whom  we  have  never  lived.  I  wrote  to  you  at  the 
commencement  of  our  correspondence,  that  you  must 
take  me  as  I  was,  and  that  such  as  I  was  I  must  be. 
I  am  peculiarly  myself,  dear  Charlotte,  in  always 
retaining  the  same  sentiments  of  love  and  admira- 
tion for  you.  But  in  writing  to  you,  I  must  always 
express  my  real  sentiments,  and  must  pray  you  to 
excuse  me  when  they  are  in  direct  contradiction  to 
your  own.  How  willingly  I  correspond  with  you, 
sufficiently  appears,  I  think,  from  the  long  letters 
which  I  write  to  you  after  the  declaration,  which 
you  will  remember  I  made  on  proposing  this  corre- 
spondence, of  my  dislike  to  writing  letters,  and  of  the 
very  short  and  trivial  communications  which  you 
might  expect  to  receive  from  me.  To  return  to  your 
biography,  I  can  only  repeat  what  I  have  so  often 
said,  that  your  continuance  of  it  will  give  me  true 


66 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


pleasure ;  but  that  whenever  I  entreat  you  to  do 
this,  it  is  always  on  the  supposition  that  it  is  accord- 
ant with  your  own  inclination,  which  I  know  it  is, 
and  is  no  interruption  to  more  important  claims  on 
your  time  and  thoughts ;  I  know  how  carefully  you 
husband  both,  and  respect  you  the  more  for  it.  Your 
observations  on  second  sight  have  made  me  very 
curious  to  know  more ;  and  as  I  am  entirely  of  your 
father's  opinion,  that  the  mysterious  connection  of 
all  things  is  beyond  our  comprehension,  I  shall  be 
no  scoffer  or  disbeliever.  Farewell,  my  dearest 
Charlotte !  For  my  sake  be  comforted  under  all 
your  distresses,  and  believe  that  no  one  thinks  of 
you  so  often  or  so  tenderly  as  your  affectionate 

H. 


LETTER  XVI. 

Berlin,  12th  April,  1823. 

Many  thanks  for  your  little  note,  which  breathes 
throughout  your  amiable  disposition.  Your 
words,  "  do  not  interpret  too  strictly  the  expressions 
of  an  afflicted  heart,  nor  the  despondency  which  is 
the  consequence  of  heavy  afflictions,"  have  moved 
me  deeply;   you  will  never  find  my  sentiments 


* 

HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 

change.  I  anxiously  await  your  next  letter;  from 
some  expressions  in  your  last,  I  conclude  that  better 
prospects  are  preparing  for  you. 

H. 


LETTER  XVII. 

Berlin,  25th  April,  1823. 

Dear  Charlotte, 

I had  just  sat  down  to  answer  your  letter  of  the 
9th,  when,  to  my  great  joy,  I  received  your  letter 
dated  the  20th.  I  feared  that  you  would  have  waited 
for  an  answer  from  me  before  you  wrote.  I  am  very 
glad  to  find  that  you  have  left  the  house,  to  whose 
disagreeable  inmates  you  had  taken  so  great  a  dislike. 
You  have  at  least  found  peace  and  solitude  in  your 
new  abode.  You  are  indebted  to  the  friend  who 
advised  you  to  refuse  the  other  house  for  a  year's 
peace  ;  for  a  year  is  a  long  time  to  pass  in  uneasiness. 
I  had  hoped,  however,  that  you  would  not  have  taken 
possession  of  your  new  dwelling  until  the  summer, 
as  you  would  have  found  it  pleasanter  to  live  in  the 
town  during  the  winter.  The  description  which  you 
have  given  me  of  your  various  apartments,  con- 
vinces me  that  they  are  very  unfit  for  a  winter  resi- 
5 


68 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


dence,  without  great  alterations  in  the  walls,  doors, 
windows,  and  such  like,  which  the  lease  does  not 
allow  you  to  make,  and  which  would  be  besides  a 
great  expense.  I  perfectly  approve,  however,  of  your 
aversion  to  the  town.  If  it  were  not  for  my  children, 
I  would  always  live  in  the  country,  for  even  where 
the  scenery  is  not  pretty,  one  at  least  has  an  open 
view  of  the  sky.  And  the  sight  of  the  broad  heavens, 
whether  on  a  dark  or  starry  night,  whether  cheerfully 
blue,  or  covered  with  rolling  clouds,  or  veiled  in  som- 
bre gray,  in  the  undistinguishable  masses  of  which 
the  eye  loses  itself, —  under  whatever  aspect  they 
may  appear,  whatever  changes  they  may  present, 
the  sight  of  the  heavens  is  to  me  a  source  of  inex- 
pressible delight.  The  aspect  of  the  heavens  affects 
the  disposition  of  some  men's  souls :  let  not  this  be 
so  with  you ;  let  the  state  of  your  spirit  be  dependent 
on  something  firmer,  something  nobler  than  the  vari- 
ations of  the  weather  or  the  seasons  ;  although,  from 
the  very  nature  of  your  mind,  you  must  rejoice  when 
nature  rejoices,  be  not  sad  at  the  appearance  of  her 
sadness.  I  never  complain  of  the  weather,  and  grieve 
when  I  hear  others  do  so.  I  view  nature  as  a  great 
power,  which  blesses  men,  as  they  confide  in  the 
good  purpose  of  all  her  developments,  and  look 
rather  to  the  fulfilment  of 'all  than  to  each  particular 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


69 


act.  One  of  the  great  charms  which  I  find  in  a 
country  life,  is  the  dance  of  the  seasons,  as  they 
pass  openly  before  my  eyes.  It  is  the  same  with 
the  several  periods  of  existence. 

How  much  men  deceive  themselves  when  they 
think  that  they  would  willingly  remain  in  either! 
The  charm  of  youth  consists  in  a  glad  and  unre- 
strained effort  to  reach  some  yet  anattained  step  in 
life,  and  if  the  young  once  became  conscious  that 
this  period  was  to  lead  to  no  higher,  they  would 
suffer  all  the  torments  of  Sisyphus ;  the  pleasures 
of  youth  would  be  to  them  as  the  pains  of  hell. 
And  old  age  is  in  reality  but  as  youth,  an  entrance 
into  life  —  an  exaltation  of  the  thoughts.  Much  as 
we  love  the  scenes  and  circumstances  about  us,  we 
feel  that  at  the  appointed  time  we  shall  leave  them 
without  repining.  Without  considering  them  in  a 
religious  point  of  view,  there  is  something  inde- 
scribably affecting  in  the  thought  of  passing  into 
infinite  space ;  in  the  contemplation  of  which  one 
becomes  purified  from  all  the  petty  sorrows  of  the 
world.  It  is  an  important  consideration  also  that 
men  crowded  closely  together  become  selfish.  We 
must  retreat  from  the  crowd  of  humanity  to  the 
heights  of  nature,  before  we  can  view  it  in  its  true 
aspects,  and  feel  for  it  the  sympathy  which  it  de- 


70 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


mands  of  our  minds.  By  such  means  alone  can  a 
man  learn  to  place  less  of  his  happiness  in  the  hands 
of  ever-changing  fortune ;  to  think  less  of  pain,  and 
more  of  his  soul ;  to  live  less  in  the  world  of  sense, 
and  more  in  the  universe  of  thought.  The  fear  of 
death  is  diminished ;  we  learn  to  look  upon  it  but  as 
a  mere  transformation,  as  one  of  the  natural  conse- 
quences of  the  design  of  our  being.  These  observa- 
tions have  been  excited  by  the  contents  of  your 
second  letter,  for  which  I  give  you  many  thanks. 
It  is  difficult  to  decide  what  to  say,  when  we  have 
to  deal  with  such  facts  of  personal  experience  as  you 
relate. 

That  a  beloved  friend  in  the  moment  of  dissolution 
may  gain  power  over  the  elements !  and  in  defiance 
of  the  laws  of  nature  be  able  to  appear  to  us,  would 
be  perfectly  incomprehensible,  if  it  were  not  for 
the  half-defined  feeling  in  our  hearts  that  it  may  be 
so.  It  is  quite  probable  that  a  very  earnest  desire 
might  give  strength  sufficient  to  break  through  the 
laws  of  nature.  But  there  may  be  needed  a  peculiar 
disposition  for  the  perception  of  a  spirit,  and  we  may 
often  be  unconsciously  in  the  presence  of  myriads 
of  disembodied  souls.  And  this  may  be  the  reason 
why  only  so  few  people  see,  or  why  we  so  seldom 
hear  of  any  having  seen,  spirits.    Many  of  the  ac- 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


n 


counts  of  the  appearance  of  spirits  to  earthly  eyes 
are  fabulous,  or  may  be  traced  to  natural  causes. 
The  faith  which  men  have  in  this  sort  of  things  is 
increased  by  their  fear  of  the  supernatural.  But,  on 
the  other  hand,  many  of  these  narrations  may  be 
true,  and,  indeed,  it  is  very  difficult  to  doubt  the 
reality  of  even  very  supernatural  events,  when  ob- 
served by  many  people  of  various  dispositions,  as 
was  the  case  in  the  ghost-seeing  at  your  house,  since 
we  might  rather  expect  spectres  to  appear  to  solitary 
individuals.  I  have  already  observed  that  in  a  cer- 
tain susceptibility  to  the  perception  of  the  super- 
sensual,  men  might  have  more  of  this  direct  commu- 
nication with  the  spiritual  world  if  their  minds  were 
not  bound  so  closely  to  earthly  things  ;  if  they  were 
more  frequently  to  hold  earnest  and  pious  communion 
with  their  own  souls.  Such  was  your  father's  feel- 
ing. Whatever  it  may  be,  he  treats  the  matter  as 
it  ought  to  be  treated,  neither  with  superstition  nor 
disbelief.  Your  narration  of  this  event  has  interested 
me  very  much,  and  I  thank  you  the  more  heartily 
for  it,  as  the  quickness  with  which  you  have  fulfilled 
my  request,  at  a  time  when  so  many  other  things 
occupied  your  thoughts,  is  another  proof  of  the  friend- 
ship with  which  you  regard  me. 

As  the  weather  is  very  rough  I  am  yet  in  town, 


72  HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 

but  intend  going,  on  the  first  favorable  opportunity, 
to  my  little  estate,  Tegel,  and  from  thence  probably 
to  Ottmachau,  in  Silesia,  for  six  or  eight  weeks. 
Pray  take  care  that  you  do  not  catch  cold.  Farewell ! 

Yours,  H. 


LETTER  XVIII. 

Tegel,  15th  May,  1823. 

Dear  Charlotte, 

I write  to  you  from  my  little  estate,  which  is 
already  known  to  you.  I  have  been  here  for 
some  days  with  my  family,  although  the  weather 
remains  very  unfavorable.  We  have  continual  storm 
and  rain,  or  at  the  best  overclouded  skies.  But  un- 
pleasant as  clouds  are  in  winter,  I  love  them  very 
much  in  summer,  when,  slightly  veiling  the  clear 
blue  sky,  they  breed  a  warmth  and  stillness,  which 
have  an  earnest  charm  for  earnest  souls.  Nature 
is  as  yet  very  backward;  the  oaks  have  but  just 
begun  to  put  forth  their  leaves,  and  only  the  very 
earliest  trees,  chestnuts,  elders,  and  such  like,  have 
their  full  foliage.  On  the  other  hand,  the  blossoms 
of  the  fruit  trees  are  very  full  and  abundant.   I  have 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


a  pleasure  in  thinking  that  your  garden  is  by  this 
time  in  a  very  nourishing  condition,  and  am  only 
anxious  lest  you  should  be  too  much  exposed  to  this 
changeable  weather,  for  which  your  dwelling  is  very 
unfitted.  My  brother's  visit  to  Berlin,  and  a  thousand 
other  little  circumstances,  have  kept  me  in  town  all 
this  winter.  The  country  therefore  has  now  a  double 
charm  for  me.  I  am  very  surprised  that  I  should 
have  so  much  delight  in  a  country  abode,  as  it  is 
quite  contrary  to  the  life  which  my  occupations  have 
compelled  me  to  lead.  If  I  had  never  been  accus- 
tomed to  the  'country,  or  had  enjoyed  it  continually, 
I  could  have  easily  referred  my  inclination  to  novelty 
in  the  one  case,  and  habit  in  the  other.  I  have 
neither  passed  my  days  altogether  in  the  country 
and  in  solitude,  nor  been  long  absent  from  either, 
yet  they  have  become  as  a  second  nature  to  me. 
During  the  many  years  which  I  passed  without  any 
regular  occupation,  I  travelled,  or  lived  in  small 
towns.  On  entering  into  active  life  I  was  drawn 
from  my  rural  solitude  into  the  whirl  of  an  extensive 
and  mixed  society.  But  even  then  I  contrived  to 
isolate  myself  from  those  around  me,  and  was  often 
alone  in  a  crowd,  an  art  which  is  soon  learned  by 
those  who  have  thoughts  sufficiently  interesting  to 
occupy  their  minds.    I  have  ever  regarded  it  as  a 


74 


Hi  MBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


blessing  from  Heaven,  for  which  I  could  never  be 
sufficiently  thankful,  and  still  regard  it  in  that  light, 
that  I  preserve  in  my  old  age  this  the  desire  of  my 
youth.  Many  have  considered  it  very  philosophical 
and  meritorious  when  they  have  observed  me  enter- 
ing on  business  and  giving  it  up  with  equal  serenity, 
neither  vexed  at  the  prospect  of  toil  in  the  one  case, 
nor  longing  after  my  old  occupations  in  the  other. 
But  I  make  no  merit  of  this,  wThich  I  think  belongs 
to  my  character,  because  I  know  that  it  simply  pro- 
ceeds from  my  natural  inclinations.  I  have  always 
thought  it  would  be  painful  to  be  occupied  to  the 
end  about  the  outward  things  which  might  be  pass- 
ing around  me,  for  all  the  events  of  this  world  are 
equally  nothing  to  us  at  the  point  of  death.  But 
with  the  workings  of  the  soul  it  is  far  otherwise. 
When  sentiments  and  ideas  have  once  become  part 
of  a  man's  heart  and  mind,  they  are  no  longer  depend- 
ent on  the  things  of  this  earth,  but  remain  with  him 
as  long  as  he  exists. 

It  seems  impossible  to  me  that  we  should  ever 
cease  to  think  and  feel.  Although  intervals  of  fail- 
ing consciousness  may  occur,  when  the  various 
states  of  our  being  may  be  no  longer  connected  with 
each  other  through  the  power  of  memory ;  still  the 
once  conceived  idea  will  work  no  less  on  the  being 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


and  inner  faculties  of  the  soul.  It  is  altogether 
otherwise  when  we  undertake  a  labor  connected 
with  outward  relations ;  with  the  actual  business  of 
life ;  and  not  out  of  immediate  love  to  it,  but  from 
other  considerations,  as  a  means  of  support.  In 
this  respect  I  should  myself  have  been  able  long  to 
continue  it,  and  have  in  fact  done  so,  as  long  as 
strength  allowed.  Women  are  especially  fortunate 
in  this,  that  the  work  which  they  perform  in  this 
wise,  although  not  altogether,  is  yet,  for  the  most 
part,  mechanical.  It  employs  the  head  but  in  a 
small  degree,  and  the  feelings  not  at  all ;  and  hence 
the  better,  the  higher,  and  the  tenderer  portion  of 
human  nature  is  left  much  more  to  itself  than  is  the 
case  writh  men.  Thus  men  so  much  more  easily 
become  narrow-sighted,  harsh,  and  crabbed,  through 
their  labor.  This  is  never  the  case  with  women, 
even  though  circumstances  and  misfortunes  oblige 
them  to  seek  a  maintenance  by  their  work,  and  that 
in  instances  in  which  their  early  life  was  free  from 
such  necessity. 

The  least  pleasant  part  of  my  pursuits  has  been 
that  they  compelled  me  to  change  my  residence 
several  times  in  the  same  year.  I  have  no  dislike 
to  a  new,  but  prefer  remaining  in  an  old  abode,  one 
charm  of  wThich  is  that  I  can  see  the  various  opera- 


/ 


76  HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 

tions  of  nature  gradually  proceeding.  The  changes 
of  the  seasons  have  a  charm  for  me,  which  I  cannot 
explain.  You  will  probably  think  that,  in  the  per- 
fect freedom  which  I  now  enjoy,  I  can  arrange  my 
time  and  pursuits  as  I  please.  The  freest  man  has 
some  obligations,  it  is  said;  and  I  find  the  saying 
true.  My  present  plans  are  to  remain  at  this  place 
till  the  1st  of  June,  and  then  to  spend  two  months 
at  Silesia,  after  which  I  shall  most  probably  return 
to  Tegel.  I  am  very  sorry  that  I  shall  not  be  able 
to  visit,  or  if  at  all,  for  a  very  short  time,  Burgörner. 
Farewell!  Pardon  me  that  I  have  written  so  much 
about  myself.  I  speak  to  you  as  to  myself ;  and 
besides,  you  know  how  willing  I  am  that  you  should 
make  yourself  the  subject  of  your  communications. 
With  the  most  hearty  affection  I  remain  yours, 

H. 


LETTER  XIX. 

Tegel,  26th  May,  1823. 

Dear  Charlotte, 

Our  letters  have  crossed.    I  wrote  to  you  without 
waiting  for  your  letter,  which,  as  it  happens, 
you  have  sent  earlier  than  usual.    From  my  last 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


letter  you  will  know  that  the  day  of  my  departure 
from  hence  is  very  near.  I  have  learned  with  great 
sorrow  your  indisposition  and  other  distresses,  which 
seem  to  oppress  you  more  than  usual.  A  change 
of  residence  has,  indeed,  been  to  you  an  evil !  I 
flatter  myself,  however,  that  these  cares  will  pass 
away  when  you  become  more  accustomed  to  your 
new  position,  and  the  returning  spring  gives  you 
pleasant  occupation  in  your  garden,  with  which,  I 
am  glad  to  find,  you  have  become  more  reconciled 
than  with  the  other  parts  of  your  establishment. 
My  only  fear  is  still  for  your  health ;  for  the  pre- 
servation of  which,  in  its  present  weak  state,  from 
the  attacks  of  the  raw  winter  weather,  good  thick 
walls  are  indispensable,  and  of  such  your  house 
seems  very  destitute.  Before  the  return  of  winter, 
consult  some  one  who  understands  such  matters, 
and  have  such  alterations  made  as  he  proposes.  It 
would  be  an  unpleasant  thing  for  you  to  have  to 
change  your  residence  a  third  time ;  but  even  that 
would  be  better  than  to  risk  your  health.  Pray 
follow  my  counsel  in  this  matter,  dear  Charlotte, 
and  let  me  add  an  earnest  request,  that  you  will 
spare  yourself,  and  not  grudge  yourself  a  little  rest 
after  so  many  distractions  and  fatigues. 

The  observations  in  your  letter  on  the  festival  of 


78 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


Whitsuntide  pleased  me  much,  and  were  manifestly 
the  expressions  of  your  heart.  It  is  to  me,  as  to 
you,  the  sweetest  and  most  glorious  of  the  church 
festivals.  Its  holy  signification,  the  descent  of 
Divine  power  on  men  of  like  passions  with  our- 
selves, is  comforting  and  exalting,  and  quite  within 
our  powers  of  comprehension,  for  every  man  may 
understand  how  he  unites  in  his  own  person  the 
spirit  and  the  flesh.  And  even  considered  as  a  mere 
earthly  ordinance,  it  is  as  a  musical  close  to  winter 
and  prelude  to  summer.  You  say  that  you  find  it 
impossible  to  become  used  to  pain,  to  regard  good 
and  bad  fortune  indifferently.  This  want  of  courage 
before  the  attacks  of  pain  I  have  long  observed  in 
your  character,  and  can  well  comprehend ;  it  is  the 
trembling  tenderness  of  a  woman's  soul,  which  it 
would  be  wrong  to  oppose  too  roughly,  or  to  harden. 
I  will  not  attempt,  therefore,  to  fortify  you  against 
the  strokes  of  misfortune,  but  will  rather  wish  it  far 
from  you.  You  may  be  sure  that  my  hearty  efforts 
tend  to  this  purpose.  The  nature  of  men  and 
women's  souls  is  very  different.  To  a  man  it  is  a 
shame  to  cower  before  the  strokes  of  fate,  to  suffer 
his  mind  to  brood  over  it  with  unavailing  sorrow. 
To  a  woman  this  is  most  natural,  and  she  turns 
instinctively  to  some  other  being  for  her  support. 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


70 


A  man,  unless  there  be  some  defect  in  his  spirit,  has 
power  to  stand  alone,  and  it  is  his  duty  to  strive 
thus  continually. 

You  have  asked,  very  naturally,  I  must  confess, 
whether  I  have  ever  experienced  pain.  Rest  as- 
sured that  I  never  speak  on  any  subject  with  which 
I  am  not  acquainted  from  my  own  observations  and 
experience. 

I  have  not  fixed  the  day  of  my  departure,  but  it 
is  so  very  near  that  I  shall  not  receive  another  letter 
from  you  at  this  place,  and  must  request  you  to 
direct  your  next  letter  to  Ottmachau.  Wishing*  from 
my  heart  that  you  may  soon  be  free  from  bad  health 
and  all  other  distress,  I  repeat  the  assurance  of  my 
hearty  sympathy  and  affection. 

Yours,  H. 

Happiness  and  unhappiness  lose  all  their  health- 
ful influences  if  they  do  not  reach  the  sensibilities 
of  the  soul.  As  reality  is  ever  poor  and  shrunken 
by  the  side  of  imagination,  in  like  manner  our  senti- 
ments and  ideas  lose  their  charm  when  clothed  in 
language.  In  the  soil  whence  they  grew,  they  in- 
crease and  flourish,  but  removed  from  their  native 
clime,  they  pine  and  die.  Thus  even  sorrow  pre- 
served in  a  man's  own  breast  hath  a  sweetness, 
which  he  would  not  willingly  lose. 


so 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


I  never  receive  such  comfort  from  others  as  from 
myself.  I  should  consider  inability  to  comfort  my- 
self under  a  misfortune  a  far  greater  evil  than  the 
misfortune  itself.  Women  may  need  consolation 
from  others,  but  a  man  should  provide  his  own. 

Compassion  is  a  distressing  feeling,  and  sympathy 
is  very  beautiful,  but  only  to  a  certain  degree. 

Your  sympathy  I  esteem  of  inestimable  worth, 
but  I  am  very  far  from  wishing  to  feel  that  I  need 
it.  To  merit  anything  which  I  do  not  possess  in 
myself  is  entirely  opposed  to  all  my  principles.  I 
have  ever  striven  to  need  nothing  which  is  not 
within  the  limit  of  my  own  resources.  It  is  not, 
perhaps,  possible  to  succeed  perfectly  in  this,  but  if 
a  man  could  attain  this,  he  would  also  attain  the 
heights  of  friendship  and  love.  For  want  in  spiritual 
things  is  as  much  opposed  to  happiness  as  any 
material  want.  To  supply  a  necessity  is  to  alleviate 
a  pain,  and  is  but  a  negative  good,  whilst  real 
happiness,  both  corporeal  and  spiritual,  is  something 
positive.  He  who  needs  friendship  least  ever  finds 
it  in  sweet  perfection,  and  it  fills  his  already  happy 
breast  with  a  superabundance  of  joy.  He  needs 
none  for  himself,  and  is  blessed  in  bestowing  his 
own  undisturbed  love  upon  his  friend.  The  con- 
dition of  a  perfect  friendship  between  two  beings  is, 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


81 


that  each  should  be  sufficient  of  himself  for  himself. 
Then,  if  one  is  found  wanting,  the  other  has  strength 
for  both. 

The  common  idea  of  the  day,  that  in  friendship 
it  is  necessary  that  friend  should  be  a  support  to 
friend,  is  only  true  for  second-rate  men  and  second- 
rate  feelings.  In  their  mutual  dependence  they  are 
both  very  likely  to  sink.  This  is  my  meaning  when 
I  speak  of  independence  as  being  the  noblest  attri- 
bute of  a  man.  Too  many  men,  most  worthy  iD 
all  other  respects,  allow  themselves  to  be  deceived 
in  this  matter,  and  misunderstanding  the  aim  and 
qualities  of  their  minds,  seek  to  conform  them  to  the 
more  susceptible  souls  of  women.  They  do  very 
wrong.  A  fair  and  pure  spirit  in  woman  is  only 
attracted  by  a  fair  and  pure  spirit  in  man. 


LETTER  XX. 

Ottmachau,  12th  July,  1823. 

The  estate  on  which  I  am  now  residing,  and  which 
I  have  already  mentioned  to  you,  I  have  pos- 
sessed since  1820.  The  scenery  here  is  very  beau- 
tiful.   From  the  old  castle,  which  is  situated  on  the 


*-2 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


top  of  a  hill,  may  be  seen  a  complete  panorama  of 
the  Silesian  and  Bohemian  Mountains,  and  between 
these  hills — at  the  foot  of  which  flows  the  Neisse — 
and  the  castle,  lie  the  pleasant  fields,  meadows,  and 
woods,  of  which  my  estate  forms  part.  I  do  not 
inhabit  the  castle,  which  only  possesses  a  few  habit- 
able rooms,  at  present  occupied  by  my  children,  but 
a  very  pleasant  convenient  house  a  little  lower 
down  the  hill,  from  whence  also  a  splendid  view 
may  be  enjoyed.  That  I  am  in  fortunate  circum- 
stances is  very  true,  and  you  justly  remark  that  this 
is  rather  the  result  of  good  fortune  than  my  own 
exertions.  It  is  perfectly  true,  and  makes  my  happi- 
ness happier.  Fortune's  gifts  please  me  more  than 
the  results  of  my  own  exertions.  It  is  better  to  be 
born  fortunate  than  rich.  I  have  been,  as  you  may 
imagine  from  my  expressions,  more  fortunate  than 
most  men ;  I  may  even  say  that  I  have  been  for- 
tunate up  to  this  time  in  all  my  undertakings.  Many 
unwise  acts  both  in  my  public  and  private  life  have 
caused  me  no  trouble,  and  others  which  cost  me 
very  little  care  or  consideration  in  their  performance 
have  been  productive  of  the  happiest  consequences. 
I  like  to  consider  myself  a  fortunate  man,  but  I 
always,  I  hope,  remember  that  my  good  fortune  may 
leave  me  at  any  moment,  and  am  therefore  more 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


83 


prudent  than  most  men.  Should  great  misfortunes 
attack  me,  either  in  the  shape  of  bodily  disease  or 
causes  of  great  mental  grief,  I  should  suffer  as  other 
men,  but  in  the  midst  of  my  sorrows  should  look 
back  upon  my  former  happiness,  and  lose  not  my 
inner  quiet,  which  would  not  suffer  a  very  severe 
shock.  I  learned  very  early  in  life  to  find  content- 
ment in  my- own  thoughts  and  feelings,  and  now 
this  self-dependence,  this  reserve,  being  so  natural 
to  my  years,  is  doubled.  I  am  certain,  however, 
that  this  has  not  diminished  the  warmth  of  my 
affections,  but  that  I  can  desire,  on  the  one  hand, 
without  pain,  and  on  the  other  enjoy  with  thank- 
fulness. You  must  not  think,  therefore,  that  1 
blame  an  uneasy  longing  in  others.  Every  one  has, 
and  must  have,  his  own  peculiar  principles ;  and, 
although  I  am  so  steadfast  in  my  own,  I  am  so  far 
from  disliking  those  of  others,  that  I  receive  your 
expressions  of  earnest  longing  for  my  friendship 
with  hearty  gratitude.  I  hope  that  you  proceed 
diligently  with  your  biography,  in  which  I  take 
much  pleasure.  In  ten  or  twelve  days  I  leave  this 
place,  and  hope  to  find  letters  from  you  in  Berlin. 
With  the  most  hearty  friendship, 

Yours,  H. 

6 


84 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


LETTER  XXI. 

I 

Tegel,  August  II,  1823. 

Dear  Charlotte, 

I reached  Berlin  the  day  before  yesterday,  and, 
on  arriving  here,  was  very  much  pleased  to  find 
a  packet  of  letters  from  you.  I  perceive  at  the  first 
glance  that  you  are  in  good  health,  comfortably 
established  in  your  new  abode,  and  busily  employed 
in  the  improvement  of  your  garden.  Next  to  the 
pleasure  with  which  I  received  this  intelligence  was 
that  with  which  I  saw  a  new  part  of  your  biography. 
I  have  not,  as  you  may  imagine,  been  able  to  find 
time  to  read  it  on  the  first  day  after  my  journey,  but 
the  passages  which  I  glanced  at  here  and  there  have 
given  me  a  foretaste  of  the  delight  with  which  I 
shall  peruse  the  whole.  The  division  of  years  which 
you  have  followed  in  your  narration  is  peculiarly 
attractive,  from  the  copiousness  which  it  almost 
necessarily  produces.  Continue  your  undertaking 
with  that  diligence  with  which  you  have  begun,  and 
always  remember  that  its  copiousness  never  wearies 
me,  for  it  is  only  from  full  and  accurate  representa- 
tions that  it  is  possible  to  draw  true  ideas  of  indi- 
vidual objects ;  and  a  sense  of  reality,  of  individuality, 


HUMB OLDT'S  LE TTERS. 


85 


is  the  chief  charm  of  all  narration.  But  I  repeat 
what  I  have  so  often  said  and  repeated,  that  I  am 
anxious  that  you  should  not  consider  this  as  a  task, 
but  as  a  pleasant  retrospect  of  your  former  life,  in 
company  with  one  who  heartily  sympathizes  with 
all  its  phases.  I  now  perceive  the  value  of  the  plan 
which  you  have  pursued,  of  completing  the  account 
of  your  parents  and  the  sketch  of  their  lives,  as  well 
as  of  the  influences  and  circumstances  with  which 
you  were  surrounded,  before  you  turn  to  the  growth 
and  particular  events  of  your  own  life.  Without 
such  an  arrangement,  the  description  of  the  former 
must  have  been  imperfect,  or  interfered  with  that  of 
the  latter.  All  that  you  write  bears  evidence  of  its 
truthfulness,  and  is  redolent  of  that  greatest  charm 
of  all  autobiography  —  the  character  of  the  writer. 
You  have  said  very  truly  in  your  preface,  that  to 
consider,  as  you  now  do,  your  past  life,  is  to  live  it 
over  again ;  but  the  impressions  of  realities  and  their 
reminiscences  are  very  different. 

The  pain  of  distressing  circumstances  is  doubled 
by  the  gloom  which  shrouds  their  consequences. 
Our  reminiscences  are  not  so,  and  the  pain  is  much 
less :  the  blow  which  strikes  us  at  the  present  with 
its  full  force  loses  half  its  strength  in  the  mass  of 
the  future.    And  surely  there  must  be  something 


86  HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 

most  beneficial  in  this  inquiry  into  the  past,  in  this 
inquiry  into  our  former  sentiments  and  ideas.  Well 
as  a  man  may  know  himself,  every  time  he  de- 
lineates his  own  character  afresh,  the  picture  is 
clearer,  better  defined ;  its  features  are  more  natural, 
nearer  the  truth.  Be  not  afraid  that  I  shall  love 
your  character  the  less  by  knowing  it  more  thor- 
oughly. In  this  respect  especially  you  have  no  need 
to  crave  my  kind  judgment.  Copiousness  preserves 
one  from  misunderstanding,  error,  and  false  judgment. 
You  are  very  right  in  thinking  that  there  is  more  in 
a  life  than  its  actions,  and  that  men  are  wrong  in 
judging  of  a  man  by  his  last  deeds.  The  Power 
which  searches  all  hearts,  looks  to  the  intentions, 
the  yearnings,  the  inner  workings  of  the  soul,  and 
this  also  is  the  aim  of  history.  Every  connected 
narrative  which  seeks  to  connect  causes  with  events, 
whether  they  be  the  events  of  a  world  or  of  a 
private  life,  is  history.  The  wish  to  know  the  cir- 
cumstances of  another's  life  proceeds  with  but  very 
few  men  from  the  desire  to  be  self-constituted  judges, 
and  least  of  all  with  me.  The  observation  of  an 
interesting  condition  of  mind,  the  inquiry  into  its 
causes  and  results,  is  peculiarly  attractive  to  the 
spectator,  although  he  may  have  no  wish  or  in- 
tention to  constitute  himself  judge  ;  and  he  finds,  if 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


87 


this  phase  of  character  attracts  his  sympathy  and 
attention,  general  laws  in  the  particular  case, 
humanity  in  man.  I  am  convinced,  and  indeed 
have  experienced  already,  that  your  narration  will 
often,  without  your  wishing,  without  your  imagining 
it,  tend  to  confirm,  to  feed,  and  to  enlarge  the 
opinion  which  I  have  formed  from  the  personal  in- 
tercourse which  we  enjoyed  so  many  years  ago, 
from  your  subsequent  written  communications,  and 
my  own  ever-undying  and  unchangeable  sympathy 
with  all  that  concerns  you  ever  since.  Continue 
your  work  courageously,  and  never  fear  that  you 
will  be  misunderstood. 


llow  me  to  repeat  my  hearty  thanks  for  the  por- 


XL  tion  of  your  biography  which  I  received  last, 
and  have  now  read  over  with  great  attention  and 
pleasure.  I  chose  my  most  leisure  time  for  the 
consideration  of  your  sketches,  and  have  examined 
them  individually  with  great  exactness.  You  must 
not  accuse  me  of  affectation,  when  I  say  that  they 


LETTER  XXII. 


September  10,  1823. 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


have  charmed  me  exceedingly.  The  acts  and  thoughts 
of  a  child,  how  unimportant !  The  growth,  the  devel- 
opment which  leads  to  these,  how  interesting !  The 
positive  act  or  idea  is  of  no  value  as  a  lesson ;  but, 
from  the  gradual  expansion  of  such  causative  ideas 
and  feelings,  much  important  instruction  may  be 
drawn.  And,  for  this  purpose,  the  life  of  a  child  is 
better  than  that  of  an  adult,  for  it  is  less  confused, 
with  outward  circumstances,  more  complete  in  itself, 
and  more  fitted  for  the  purposes  of  comparison.  You, 
for  instance,  have  drawn  your  character  as  a  child, 
and  a  natural  connection  arises  in  the  mind  between 
that,  the  characters  of  your  parents,  and  your  own 
character  in  latter  years.  I  never  lose  sight  of  these 
three  points  during  the  perusal  of  your  history.  For 
it  may  be  fairly  determined,  that  those  characteristics 
of  your  disposition  when  a  child,  which  have  been 
through  life  and  now  are  your  characteristics, —  it 
may  be  fairly  determined,  I  say,  that  they  are  essen- 
tial properties  of  your  spirit.  You  appear  as  a  child 
to  have  been  remarkably  attentive  to  the  world 
moving  around  you ;  but,  instead  of  being,  as  might 
have  been  expected,  drawn  into  its  vortex,  to  have 
drawn  from  it  materials  for  a  world  of  your  own 
construction.  I  cannot  doubt  for  an  instant  that 
you  owe  your  inner  nature  to  your  father,  in  whom 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


89 


it  was  present  in  so  different  a  manner  only  as  it 
had  sprung  from  different  sources.  It  is  not  easy 
to  judge  respecting  the  opposite  dispositions  of  your 
parents,  but  a  decision  according  to  the  world's  stand- 
ard must  be  in  favor  of  your  mother.  She  was  active, 
practical,  thoughtful,  but  yet  most  truly  amiable  and 
loving.  Hers  was  certainly  the  stronger  character 
of  the  two.  In  the  character  of  your  father  one 
misses  the  right  idea  of  life,  which  may  be  looked 
for  in  a  man  still  more  than  in  a  woman.  But  it  is 
right  to  be  cautious  in  condemning.  It  is  very  mani- 
fest that  we  cannot  penetrate  the  mysteries  of  his 
inner  nature,  which  it  is  very  probable  he  never 
found  an  opportunity  to  unfold  without  reserve.  He 
could  not  enter  into  any  communion  of  soul  with 
his  wife,  as  he  might  have  done  in  later  years,  and 
probably  did,  to  a  certain  degree,  with  you.  But  it 
is  seldom  that  a  father  seeks  sympathy  from  his 
grown-up  daughters.  The  ruling  trait  of  your  father's 
character,  his  disposition  to  revery,  was  mingled 
with  something  which,  if  it  cannot  be  called  corporeal, 
was  yet  independent  of  the  will,  and  even  distinct 
from  all  consciousness. 

I  confess  that,  for  my  own  part,  I  have  no  love 
for  this  inner  and  independent  life  of  the  spirit;  I 
like  to  have  a  clear  and  well-defined  consciousness, 


90 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


to  have  no  thoughts  but  those  which  proceed  from, 
and  obey  my  own  free  will.  I  possess,  partly  as  the 
gift  of  nature,  and  partly  as  the  result  of  habits 
begun  very  early  in  life,  a  great  power  and  command 
over  myself ;  and  it  is  therefore  painful  to  me  even 
to  imagine  my  mind  in  the  condition  of  your  father's, 
perpetually  in  the  region  of  dreams,  and  moved  by 
forces  over  which,  although  innate,  he  had  no  con- 
trol. I  am  very  timid  of  passing  any  judgment  on 
your  father,  as  I  must  ever  be  in  respect  to  those 
who  are  nearly  connected  with  you ;  but  I  must  say 
that  both  your  parents  should  have  paid  greater  and 
more  constant  attention  to  you  than  they  did.  Your 
mother  was  so  different  in  character,  that  she  could 
influence  you  but  very  little,  and  so  partial  in  her 
views,  that  her  only  aim  was  to  make  you  exactly 
similar  to  herself.  Because  this  could  not  be,  and 
because  your  father  interfered  to  protect  you  from 
her  unreasonable  demands,  she  left  you  more  to 
yourself  than  is  at  all  good  for  a  child.  It  might 
have  been  very  beneficial  if  your  mother  had  been 
able  to  instil  some  of  her  practical  nature  into  your 
tender,  reserved,  contemplative  nature.  And  yet  what 
a  blind  supposition,  what  an  idle  speech  is  this! 
Although  a  more  perfect  education  might  have  made 
your  mind  and  soul  more  perfect,  you  are  so  good 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


91 


as  you  are,  that  there  is  little  room  left  for  grumbling. 
If  you  had  gained  more  of  your  mother's  character, 
you  might  have  struggled  successfully  with  many 
obstacles  in  life,  have  been  spared  many,  and  borne 
all  with  firmness,  energy,  and  trustfulness.  But 
much  of  your  spirit  would  then  have  been  unim- 
proved and  undeveloped  ;  and  if  happiness, —  I  use 
the  word  in  its  common  signification  of  freedom  from 
pain  or  of  positive  enjoyment, —  if  happiness,  I  say, 
comes  into  collision  with  the  wealthier,  the  fairer 
treasures  of  the  spirit,  so  that  one  or  the  other  must 
le  neglected,  let  the  corporeal  be  as  dust,  in  com- 
parison with  the  gold  of  the  spiritual.  Your  Aunt 
L  must  have  had  much  influence  on  your  educa- 
tion. Her  character  is  most  amiable,  and  much  more 
like  your  own  than  is  your  mother's.  I  was  very 
pleasantly  surprised  to  find  mention  in  the  last  part 
of  your  biography  of  Dohm  and  his  wife.  Whilst 
I  was  residing  in  Berlin,  before  I  went  to  the  uni- 
versity, he  was  for  some  time  my  tutor.  I  then 
knew  little  or  nothing  of  his  wife ;  but  some  time 
after,  in  the  same  year  that  he  was  made  ambassador 
to  A  ,  and  that  I  first  met  with  my  dear  Char- 
lotte at  Pyrmont,  I  made  a  tour  up  the  Rhine,  and 
stayed  with  him  above  a  week.  As  Dohm  was 
usually  very  busy  in  his  study,  I  had  a  good  deal 


92 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


of  his  wife's  company,  which  I  found  very  agreeable, 
for  she  was,  as  you  observe,  of  very  pleasing  appear- 
ance, and  most  charming  disposition.  Since  that 
time  I  have  never  seen  her,  and  met  him  but  twice 
since  in  Frankfort,  on  his  return  from  Switzerland, 
in  181*7,  when  many  years  had  elapsed  since  our 
first  meeting,  and  I  had  experienced  several  changes 
of  fortune.  I  must  not  praise  his  conduct  in  the 
Westphalian  affairs,  which  cam  ot,  perhaps,  be  alto- 
gether defended  from  the  charge  of  weakness ;  but 
he  was  personally  a  brave  and  well-meaning,  anoV, 
from  his  knowledge  and  talents,  a  most  interesting 
man.  At  the  time  which  I  have  mentioned,  sickness 
had  shattered  his  constitution,  and  he  was  but  a 
shadow  of  what  he  used  to  be.  Accident  brought 
us  together  about  three  weeks  later.  I  was  lodging 
at  an  hotel  in  Cologne,  on  my  way  to  London,  when 
a  fire  broke  out  in  a  neighboring  house,  which,  as 
the  streets  are  very  narrow  there,  was  an  extremely 
dangerous  circumstance.  I  arose  and  went  out; 
and  in  the  street  met  poor  Dohm  with  a  packet 
under  his  arm.  We  had  been  living  in  the  same 
hotel  without  knowing  of  our  near  neighborhood. 
Soon  after  this  he  died.  You  ask  me  whether  I  am 
acquainted  with  the  country  about  Prussian  Minden, 
and  the  Porta  Westphalia  ?    No ;  I  have  travelled 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


93 


very  hastily  through  the  one,  and  never  set  foot  in 
the  other  province.  Their  historical  associations 
render  them  both  very  attractive ;  but  it  is  very 
improbable  that  I  shall  ever  become  acquainted  with 
them  by  personal  observation,  as  I  now  travel  with 
great  difficulty,  and  confine  my  excursions  to  a  par- 
ticular circle.  I  gather  from  certain  expressions 
which  you  use,  that  you  wish  to  ask  my  advice 
respecting  something.  Ask  without  reserve ;  you 
know  the  pleasure  with  which  I  shall  give  you  the 
best  counsel  in  my  power.  You  say,  however,  very 
truly,  that  I  care  very  little  either  to  ask  or  to  give 
advice.  People  who  ask  advice  have  generally  de- 
termined their  course  without  its  help.  A  man  can 
well  be  guided  by  others  in  many  things,  as  in  mat- 
ters of  convenience  or  duty ;  but  his  resolutions 
must  be  his  own.  With  all  my  heart  I  bid  you 
farewell !    Unchangeably  yours,  H. 


LETTER  XXIII. 


i 


Tegel,  September  28,  1823. 

Dear  Charlotte, 

have  received  your  letter  of  the  23d,  for  which 
I  give  you  many  thanks.    I  have  not  time  to 


94 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


send  you  an  answer  to-day,  but  write  so  imme- 
diately, simply  for  the  purpose  of  giving  my  advice 
on  the  assistance  in  your  affairs  which  you  propose 
asking  of  the  Duke  of  Brunswick.  I  know  neither 
the  duke,  nor  any  one  of  the  slightest  influence  in 
his  dominions,  and  can,  therefore,  form  no  opinion 
of  the  effect  which  local  and  individual  influences 
may  have  on  your  petition.  I  am  on  the  whole  in- 
clined to  think  you  right  in  proceeding  thus  openly 
and  directly.  I  cannot  see  that  it  can  be  of  any 
disadvantage  to  you,  and  need  scarcely  say  that 
your  letter  contains  nothing  which  is  not  perfectly 
right  and  becoming.  It  is  possible  that  your  prayer 
may  be  granted,  and  I  advise  you  to  write  as  soon 
as  you  learn  that  the  duke  is  in  Brunswick.  Ask 
no  more  counsel  of  your  friends,  but  attend  to  your 
own  inclination  and  send  the  letter,  not  by  means 
of  any  third  person,  but  direct  to  the  duke  by  the 
post.  You  possess  the  letters  of  the  duke  who  fell 
at  Waterloo,  in  which  he  expresses  his  sympathy 
for  you,  and  holds  out  the  hope  of  a  pension  at  the 
conclusion  of  the  campaign.  Send  the  originals  of 
these  letters  to  the  son,  and  found  your  claims  on 
these  expressions  of  his  father.  Represent  that  he 
granted  you  his  sympathy,  to  a  certain  degree,  in 
consideration  of  your  position,  but  much  rather  on 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


95 


account  of  the  sacrifices  which  you  had  made.  Tell 
him,  that  if  your  circumstances  are  as  worthy  of 
commiseration  as  then,  a  small  income  would  be  a 
great  comfort  to  you,  and  refer  him,  if  he  need  a 
reference,  to  your  female  friend  in  Brunswick.  Be 
careful  to  request  him,  whatever  may  be  his  de- 
cision, to  return  the  letters  which  you  send  him, 
since  you  regard  them  as  very  dear  mementos.  I 
cannot  give  you  hope  that  you  will  gain  anything 
by  this  step,  the  contrary  will  most  probably  be  tho 
case.  But  even  then  the  only  bad  consequence  of 
your  proceeding  will  be  the  pain  which  you  must 
feel  at  a  refusal.  On  the  other  hand,  I  think  that 
the  sight  of  his  father's  handwriting  may  influence 
him  much  in  your  favor.  I  strongly  advise  you,  I 
repeat,  to  write  to  him  personally,  and  am  firmly 
convinced  that  any  other  course  would  be  attended 
with  no  good  result.  I  do  not  know  whether  by 
the  laws  of  Brunswick,  its  pensionaries  must  enjoy 
their  pensions  there  ;  but  I  suppose  that  such  is  the 
case.  However,  when  you  obtain  the  pension,  it 
will  be  time  enough  to  ask  a  dispensation  from  this 
regulation. 

Yours,  H. 


9(» 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


LETTER  XXIV. 

Berlin,  October  18,  1823. 

Dear  Charlotte, 

I have  lately  answered  the  most  important  part  of 
your  last  letter,  and  await  with  some  anxiety 
for  your  next,  to  learn  whether  you  have  followed 
my  advice.  The  issue  of  the  step  which  you  pro- 
posed to  take  must,  of  course,  be  very  doubtful,  but 
it  could  not  do  harm,  and  might  do  good.  I  have 
made  it  a  rule  through  life  never  to  neglect  circum- 
stances which  might  give  a  new  direction  to  the 
course  of  my  life,  but  rather  to  employ  them,  and  to 
weave  the  thread  of  such  events  into  the  rest  of  my 
life,  and  this  is  the  case  with  matters  which  have 
proceeded  some  way  on  their  path,  as  this  affair  of 
yours  has,  by  your  acquaintance  with  the  late  duke. 
His  expressions  were  so  kind  that  it  would  be  a  dis- 
graceful thing  if  you  should  find  them  of  no  advan- 
tage. There  is  always  also  a  mode  of  proving 
men's  characters,  and,  together  with  that  which  we 
can  effect  by  some  degree  of  activity  and  manage- 
ment, the  views,  experiments,  and  combinations  of 
our  experience  in  life  are  frequently  the  most  useful, 
and,  at  least,  by  far  the  most  interesting  of  our 
acquisitions. 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS.  9f 

I  am  very  much  inclined,  even  more  so  than  is 
right,  to  view  life  as  a  comedy,  and  in  the  most 
serious  and  engrossing  occupations  never  lose  the 
delight  which  I  take  in  the  observation  of  men  and 
manners.  By  this  means  I  have  greatly  added  to 
the  resources  of  my  spirit,  and  received  help  and 
consolation  in  many  labors  and  difficulties.  This 
may  be  easily  understood,  and  proceeds  from  a 
double  reason,  —  the  pleasure  of  tracing  causes 
through  all  their  successive  developments,  through 
all  the  labyrinths  of  circumstances,  to  effects,  and 
the  interest  with  which  the  mind  watches  the  re- 
sults as  far  as  they  concern  its  own  position. 
Whilst  this  mode  of  thought  does  not  weaken  in 
the  slightest  degree  a  man's  sympathy  for  his 
fellows,  it  renders  him  prudent,  cairn,  and  collected. 
This  view,  especially  in  important  circumstances, 
affords  the  conviction  that  when  such  circumstances 
oppose  our  inclinations,  they  are  still  pursuing  a 
course  deeply  fixed  in  the  firmly  established  plans 
of  fate.  To  foresee  but  the  least  of  these  plans  is 
the  greatest  pleasure  of  which  the  human  mind  is 
susceptible.  I  never,  however,  apply  this  to  the 
circumstances  of  my  own  life,  but  should  consider 
it  both  vanity  and  selfishness  if  I  were  to  look  for- 
ward with  great  anxiety  to  my  future  prospects,  to 


9S 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


lay  deep  plans  for  my  path  through  life.  My  per- 
sonality interests  me  only  as  I  bear  adversity  with 
fortitude,  prosperity  with  modesty,  and,  for  the  rest, 
whether  my  sea  be  rough  or  calm,  I  care  not,  simply 
regarding  myself  as  an  atom  of  the  mass.  But  yet 
I  behold  with  great  pleasure,  from  a  point  of  view 
raised  high  above  all  self-interest,  the  characters  of 
those  who  take  part  in  the  scenes  of  my  life,  on  the 
nature  of  which  so  much  depends.  Those  who 
would  enter  on  such  a  study  as  this  must  not  do 
so  out  of  mere  curiosity,  must  not  look  upon  this 
game  of  life  as  holiday  folks  look  at  a  comedy,  must 
not  strive  simply  to  understand  the  changes  and 
chances  of  humanity  in  its  worldly  conditions,  but 
with  an  intense  interest  must  strive  unweariedly  to 
fathom  its  innermost  nature,  to  comprehend  the 
motions  of  those  powers  of  fate  which,  crossing 
each  other's  orbits  in  a  myriad  of  directions,  intri- 
cate and  unsearchable,  roll  on  with  a  harmony  in- 
comprehensible. In  this  case,  as  in  all  others, 
humanity  appears  evil  or  good,  according  as  the 
position  of  the  spectator  is  evil  or  good.  Send  me, 
I  pray  you,  the  continuation  of  your  biography  as 
soon  as  you  have  brought  it  to  a  fitting  close.  Let 
me  have  it  if  possible  before  the  5th  of  November  ; 
and  if  you  cannot,  keep  it  back  for  some  little  time, 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


99 


for  I  purpose  spending  ten  days  in  Thuringia,  and, 
after  that,  a  short  time  at  Burgörner,  but,  in  any 
case,  I  shall  send  you  a  few  lines  before  my  de- 
parture. With  the  greatest  affection,  I  remain 
yours,  H. 

That  self-sufficiency  of  which  I  have  spoken, 
enables  me  to  view  good  and  bad  fortune  in  a  very 
different  light  from  that  in  which  they  appear  to 
other  men.  You  speak  in  your  letter,  which  I 
found  on  my  arrival  here,  of  "wishing,"  and  ask  me 
whether  I  have  ever  yielded  to  its  attractions.  I 
answer,  certainly !  and  although  I  do  not  praise,  but 
rather  blame  myself  for  the  indulgence,  I  must  say 
that  it  has  proved  to  me  a  great  comfort.  I  learned 
very  young  to  be  content  with  my  own  thoughts 
and  feelings,  independent  of  any  exterior  influences, 
and  now  this  reserve  and  self-dependence  being  so 
suited  to  my  advanced  years,  has  become  to  me  as 
a  double  nature,  without,  I  hope,  injuring  the 
warmth  of  my  affection  for  others.  For  men  are 
able  to  conceive  it  possible  to  desire  without  pain, 
and  still  to  enjoy  with  thorough  heartiness.  I  find 
it  quite  natural  to  my  disposition.  But  you  must 
not  think  that  I  blame  the  earnest  longings  and 
uneasy  wishes  of  others.    Every  one  must  have  his 


100 


II UMB'O'L I) T 'S  LETTERS. 


peculiar  disposition.  I  have  mine,  and  neither  can 
nor  wish  to  change  it ;  bnt  can  assure  you  that  your 
expression  of  the  trusting  affection  which  you 
bestow  on  me,  fills  me  with  much  thankfulness. 
You  proceed,  I  hope,  with  your  biography.  I  go  to 
Berlin  in  ten  or  twelve  days,  and  hope  to  find  letters 
from  you  there. 

Yours,  H. 


LETTER  XXV. 

Berlin,  November  3,  1823. 

Dear  Charlotte, 

Many  thanks  for  your  letter  of  the  12th  ultimo, 
which  I  have  just  received.  I  have  not  yet 
had  time  to  read  the  portion  of  your  history  which 
you  enclosed;  I  shall  devote  this  paper,  therefore,  to 
your  petition  to  the  duke  and  my  journey. 

I  return  you  the  draft  of  the  letter  which  you 
propose  to  send  to  the  duke  unaltered ;  it  is  a  little 
too  long,  perhaps,  but  I  have  thought  it  better  to 
leave  it  as  it  is.  When  the  writer  wishes  to  make 
an  impression,  his  composition  must  not  be  stamped 
with  business,  brevity,  and  exactness,  but  should 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


101 


rather  be  an  unaffected  expression  of  his  feelings, 
and  this  appearance  is  always  destroyed  or  weak- 
ened by  the  alterations  of  a  third  person.  The 
attempted  improvement  is  an  injury.  Besides 
which,  I  think,  on  consideration,  that  the  length 
will  be  no  disadvantage,  as  the  interest  with  which 
the  duke  must  see  his  father's  handwriting  would 
carry  him  to  the  end  of  your  memorial  with  in- 
terest, even  were  it  much  longer.  I  leave  this  place 
in  a  few  days,  and  wish  you  to  write  to  me  at  Bur- 
görner.  Write  on  the  cover — To  be  left  till  called 
for.    Pardon  the  haste  in  which  I  write.    Farewell ! 

Yours,  H. 


LETTER  XXVI. 

Burgörner,  November  29,  1823. 

Dear  Charlotte, 

I had  but  just  read  your  letter  of  the  25th  ult., 
when  I  received  your  letter  of  the  25th  inst, 
and  another  part  of  your  history,  for  both  of  which 
I  give  you  my  hearty  thanks.  If  my  departure  had 
not  been  accidentally  delayed,  I  should  not  have 
received  your  first  letter  until  my  return,  as  I  had 
left  no  orders  that  my  letters  should  be  forwarded, 


102 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


and  must,  therefore,  consider  the  delay  as  very  for- 
tunate. My  best  wishes  go  with  the  memorial 
which  you  have  at  length  sent  to  the  duke,  which  I 
begin  to  hope  will  have  some  good  consequences, 
for  I  confide  much  in  the  effect  of  the  late  duke's 
letters. 

My  health,  I  rejoice  to  say,  is  very  good,  and  the 
weather  is  not  merely  fine  for  the  season  of  the  year, 
but  is  really  very  charming.  The  sun  to-day  has 
been  particularly  warm  and  cheering,  lighting  an 
almost  unclouded  sky.  As  I  have  many  occupa- 
tions, both  public  and  private,  I  am  particularly 
fond  of  living  here,  where  I  am  so  free  from  inter- 
ruption, and  where  the  solitude  is  so  cheerful.  The 
joy,  moreover,  of  living  with  my  family  is  an  inde- 
scribably pleasant  addition  to  the  happiness  of  my 
independently  happy  life.  I  have  never  been  able 
to  understand  how  that  deserved  to  be  called  happi- 
ness which  simply  supplied  a  need,  which  was  near 
unhappiness ;  and  it  has  always  appeared  to  me  that 
that  only  is  true  happiness  which  a  man  acquires, 
when,  by  satisfying  himself  with  the  most  ordinary 
circumstances,  he  keeps  his  inclinations  and  his  feel- 
ings in  subjection  to  himself,  and,  by  doing  which, 
he  so  exalts  his  condition,  though  satisfactory  in 
itself,  that  his  original  state,  compared  with  what  it 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


103 


now  is,  seems  to  have  been  essentially  defective.  I 
have  ever  been  a  stranger  to  violent  desires  and 
passionate  expressions.  But  I  will  neither  praise 
nor  defend  this  disposition,  which  may  proceed  from 
a  want  of  that  natural  fire  and  energy  which  is  so 
necessary  to  a  man  for  the  successful  prosecution  of 
many  most  important  and  serious  undertakings;  and 
which,  I  may  observe,  was  not  always  so  peculiar 
to  my  character  as  it  is  now,  when  it  is  so  proper 
for  my  years.  Youth  must  lose  in  manhood  the  too 
passionate  life  of  his  feelings,  and  yet  retain  suffi- 
cient of  their  fire  for  the  nourishment  of  firmness 
and  energy. 

I  now  return  to  the  subject  of  your  biography,  for 
the  last  part  of  which  I  have  already  thanked  you. 
I  read  it  through  last  evening  without  pause,  and 
was,  as  usual,  extremely  delighted.  The  interest  is 
not  at  all  injured,  as  you  seem  to  fear,  by  the  mis- 
placing of  some  parts  of  the  narrative.  In  such 
reminiscences  as  those  which  compose  your  narra- 
tive, it  would  be  absurd  to  look  for  exact  chrono- 
logical arrangement,  and  so  far  from  being  vexed  at 
the  slight  want  of  it  which  they  display,  I  only  read 
them  with  ever  increasing  wonder  that  you  should 
remember  so  much  of  the  days  of  your  childhood. 
This  portion  of  your  history  consists  for  the  most 


104 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


part  of  conversations,  and  this  gives  it  the  advan- 
tage over  all  the  former.  Every  thing  contained  in 
it  is  excellently  conceived,  and  that,  as  you  rightly 
observe,  is  the  most  indispensable  requisite  of  good 
writing,  and  is  united  in  your  narrative  with  the 
other  excellence  of  exactness.  I  am  very  much  in- 
terested in  thus  tracing  the  development  of  your 
mind,  and  quite  concur  with  your  observation  that 
your  intercourse  with  those  who  were  so  much 
older  than  yourself  was  a  means  of  instruction  the 
more  lasting  that  it  was  so  slight,  and  fell  on  a 
mind  so  earnestly  desirous  of  a  richer  and  more 
abundant  instruction.  And  I  have  little  doubt  that 
this  mode  of  education  has  been  more  valuable  to 
you  than  any  fine  systematic  course  of  instruction 
could  have  been.  Such  an  education  as  the  latter 
is  not  always  the  direct  road  to  the  formation  of  a 
good  character,  or  the  accumulation  of  knowledge. 
The  confluence  of  the  myriad  circumstances  about 
him,  however  slight  in  their  nature,  frequently  has 
a  greater  part  in  the  formation  of  a  man's  mind 
than  any  direct  control;  for  the  result  of  an  edu- 
cation depends  on  the  power  with  which  a  man 
seizes  on  opportunities,  and  takes  advantage  of  their 
influence.  I  have  observed  with  great  pleasure  that 
the  disposition  and  understanding  of  your  childhood 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


105 


exist  in  these  later  years  of  your  life.  For  it  has 
long  been  my  favorite  opinion  that  the  real  nature 
of  a  man's  mind  never  changes.  It  may  lay  aside 
the  errors  of  youth  for  the  virtues  of  age,  or  ex- 
change its  early  innocence  for  odious  vices,  but 
whether  by  activity  or  contemplation,  violence  or 
gentleness,  whether  energetically  and  boldly  it  seized 
on  life,  or  was  content  to  glide  over  its  unfathomed 
waters,  the  sport  of  every  treacherous  gale,  what- 
ever were  the  distinguishing  features  of  its  youth, 
they  will  be,  I  maintain,  the  distinguishing  features 
of  its  maturity.  This  is  the  chief  substance  of  what 
I  wish  to  say  on  the  subject  of  the  last  portion  of 
your  biography.  But  I  shall  return  to  it  at  some 
other  time.  I  should  be  very  glad  if  you  would 
weave  into  your  narrative  any  letters  or  other  docu- 
ments which  may  be  connected  with  it.  I  wish  not 
merely  to  have  a  perfect  knowledge  of  your  charac- 
ter, but  to  see  you  as  portrayed  by  yourself.  For 
the  picture  of  your  former  self,  drawn  by  yourself, 
and  breathing  your  present  self,  united  by  your  own 
hands  to  the  picture  of  your  present  being,  so 
strongly  characteristic  of  your  past,  possesses  for 
me  an  indescribable  charm.  As  I  very  shortly  leave 
this  place,  and  yet  shall  not  be  in  Berlin  till  Christ- 
mas, I  pray  you  write  to  me,  so  that  I  may  receive 


106 


// 1  IIB  OL  D  T '  S  L  E  TTE  R  S. 


your  letters  just  before  New  Year's  day.  My  wife, 
I  rejoice  to  say,  is  very  well ;  it  is  her  custom  to 
visit  a  watering-place  once  a  year,  sometimes  with, 
and  sometimes  without  me,  and  she  is  at  present 
happily  established  at  Marienbad.  The  report  which 
you  heard  was  malice  or  exaggeration.  With  hearty 
thanks  for  your  sympathy  and  unchanging  affection, 
believe  me  yours,  H. 


My  dear  Charlotte, 

/r any  thanks  for  your  letter  of  the  21st,  and  the 


JAJL  affection  which  it  breathes  towards  me.  I 
return  most  heartily  your  wishes  for  a  happy  new 
year  in  my  behalf,  and  as  none  can  feel  for  you  a 
more  intense  affection  than  I,  so  none  can  wish  you 
more  sincerely  than  I  do,  —  a  happy  and  many 
happy  new  years.  Take  care  of  yourself,  my  dearest 
Charlotte,  take  care  of  your  health,  and  take  great 
care  to  be  quiet,  to  be  composed.  For  the  light  and 
shade,  the  happiness  and  unhappiness  of  a  man's 
life,  depend  on  the  disposition  with  which  he  regards 
it.    An  unalloyed  contentment  of  mind  cannot  be 


LETTER  XXVII. 


Berlin,  Jan.  12th,  1824. 


Ii  UM  HOL  DT 'S  LE  TTERS. 


10t 


bought  by  man,  it  is  the  golden  gift  of  heaven.  But 
it  is  within  the  reach  of  all  to  soften  to  himself  the 
rough  shocks  of  life  in  this  busy  world.  He  may 
receive  them  courageously,  sustain  them  patiently, 
and  by  his  prudence  alleviate  or  turn  them  aside ; 
but  even  if  his  mind  be  unequal  to  these  exertions, 
it  need  not,  as  is  the  case  with  too  many,  exert 
itself  to  annoy  itself.  These  efforts  ought  not  to  be 
regarded  as  an  impious  attempt  to  shield  ourselves 
from  the  might  of  heaven ;  for  it  must  surely  be  the 
will  of  God  that  we  should  use  the  strength  and 
power,  which  he  has  given  into  our  hands,  against 
the  violence  of  earthly  foes,  and  the  burdens  of  this 
our  lower  fate.  I  have  made  these  observations, 
because,  as  I  grieve  to  find,  you  give  yourself  up  to 
sad  forebodings  and  imaginary  terrors.  Your  words, 
"  Be  not  too  severe  on  my  weakness, —  I  do  nothing 
but  fear,  an  unhappy  future  haunts  me  like  a  spectre, 
—  I  am  the  slave  of  superstition,  and  superstition 
knows  no  peace,"  have  made  me  sad  indeed,  and 
called  forth  my  preceding  observations.  You  have 
spoken  so  clearly  and  so  well,  reasoned  so  closely 
and  correctly  on  superstition  and  melancholy  in 
respect  to  your  father,  that  you  should  be  the  last 
of  all  people  to  be  moved  by  such  trifles  as  those 
which  now  disturb  and  unsettle  you.    Do  not  think 


108 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


that  I  reproach  you,  be  sure  that  I  should  never  do 
that ;  my  only  desire  is  that  you  should  not  vainly 
trouble  yourself  by  yielding  to  imaginary  sorrows, 
which  can  but  increase  those  which  are  real,  injure 
your  health,  and  hinder  you  from  any  real  and 
healthful  exertions.  I  write  thus  openly  because  I 
am  convinced  that  the  open  expression  of  my  senti- 
ments must  influence  you  more  than  any  other,  and 
have  your  repeated  assurance  that  you  find  strength 
and  consolation  in  my  words. 

I  am  established  for  the  spring  in  Berlin,  and  wish 
you  to  direct  your  letters  as  usual.  I  should  be  very 
glad  to  receive  a  further  portion  of  your  autobiog- 
raphy. I  perfectly  agree  with  what  you  have  said 
respecting  it,  and  think  that  we  shall  also  agree  in 
the  following  observations.  It  is  susceptible,  I  think, 
of  the  following  three  divisions :  first,  the  continua- 
tion of  the  history  of  your  childhood  until  your  mar- 
riage ;  secondly,  of  your  married  life ;  and  thirdly, 
of  your  widowhood  up  to  this  time.  I  may  judge 
from  what  you  have  already  written,  that  you  will 
find  no  difficulty  in  the  first  division,  —  the  less,  that 
it  arouses  no  unpleasant  reminiscences,  and  from  its 
very  nature  must  be  suggestive  of  pleasant  thoughts. 
I  have  often  declared,  and  repeat,  that  it  interests 
me  exceedingly,  and  beseech  you  therefore  to  send 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


109 


me  some  further  portion  of  it,  how  rauch  I  of  course 
leave  to  you,  and  must  be  decided  by  your  inclina- 
tion and  other  avocations.  Whether  you  will  ever 
write  or  submit  to  my  perusal  the  second  division 
of  your  biography  is  another  question.  I  need  not 
say  how  much  it  would  delight  me ;  but  I  feel  with 
you  that  to  write  it  would  be  to  tear  open  many 
wounds,  to  prepare  for  yourself  a  long  season  of 
distress,  and  that  the  pleasure  which  I  must  feel  in 
its  perusal  would  be  much  embittered  by  this  con- 
sideration ;  although  I  do  not  consider  the  retrospect 
of  evil  such  an  evil  as  you  do,  for  it  ever  possesses 
for  me  a  certain  sweetness,  and  I  love  it  moreover 
for  the  assistance  which  it  gives  me  in  gaining  that 
independence  of  fortune  which  is  so  indispensable 
to  a  manly  character.  But  I  cannot  give  you  my 
disposition,  nor  am  I  quite  sure  that  I  should  have 
maintained  it  under  such  misfortunes  as  yours.  It 
is  for  you  to  decide,  my  dear  Charlotte,  whether 
you  will  break  off  in  your  narrative  at  the  close  of 
the  first,  or  carry  it  on  to  the  second  period  of  your 
life.  I  am  convinced,  and  the  conviction  fills  me 
with  great  pleasure,  that  you  would  make  a  great 
sacrifice  for  my  sake,  but  I  could  take  no  pleasure  in 
a  gratification  purchased  at  the  expense  of  much 
pain  to  you.    The  third  period  is  not  open  to  such 


110 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


great  objections  as  the  second,  but  in  your  narrative 
of  the  former  you  must  too  often  refer  to  the  latter ; 
your  present  sentiments  are  too  closely  interwoven, 
too  greatly  dependent  on  those  of  the  second  period 
of  your  life,  to  be  considered  and  delineated  without 
much  pain.  But  however  this  may  be,  let  me  have, 
at  least,  that  which  I  have  desired  so  long, —  a  vivid 
and  perfect  description  of  another's  youth  and  child- 
hood. And  now  farewell !  Be  comforted,  confide  in 
the  future,  and  ever  be  careful  not  to  add  imaginary 
to  real  cares.  With  unchangeable  affection  I  remain 


|Here  are  several  defences  against  the  strokes  of 


-L  fate  ;  they  are, — patience,  and  submission  to  its 
ordinances,  and  a  firm  hope  and  confidence  that  they 
will  work  together  for  good. 

You  ask  me  whether  I  have  ever  read  the  Bible. 
Yes.  I  have  read  it  through  many  times ;  the  last 
of  which  was  during  my  stay  in  London,  and  I  am 
very  well  acquainted  with  the  chapter  in  the  Corinth- 
ians, to  which  you  allude.    It  is  one  of  the  finest  in 


Yours. 


H. 


LETTER  XXVIII. 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


Ill 


the  New  Testament,  if  rightly  understood ;  but  it  is 
also  one  of  those  which  may  be  too  easily  interpreted 
according  to  our  own  feelings  and  peculiar  ideas,  and 
still,  though  these  may  be  very  pious,  wrongly  inter- 
preted. In  the  Greek  text,  however,  this  is  less 
possible.  Our  German  language  has  the  word  love 
(Liebe),  which,  indeed,  is  a  very  noble  and  beautiful 
word,  but  has  many  different  significations.  Now  in 
Greek  there  is  one  particular  word  for  that  gentle, 
long-suffering,  heaven-aspiring  love,  which  is  meant 
by  our  word  "  love  "  in  this  chapter,  a  word  which 
is  never  used  for  the  love  of  the  two  sexes.  I  am 
far,  nevertheless,  from  blaming  our  Lutheran  trans- 
lation on  this  account,  for  I  admire  this  word  "  love  " 
with  its  many  significations,  touching,  as  it  does,  the 
very  root  of  all  our  sensibilities.  Two  things,  it 
appears  to  me,  render  this  chapter  pre-eminently 
great  and  valuable,  and  show  the  sense  in  which  the 
Apostle  used  the  word  "  love :  "  first,  the  meaning 
of  the  passage  points,  not  merely  to  eternity,  but  to 
love  itself,  as  something  eternal,  and  opposed  to 
many  other  things,  themselves  great  and  valuable, 
but  yet  of  only  temporary  duration ;  and  next,  love 
is  described,  not  as  a  separate  feeling,  but  visibly  as 
a  whole  condition  of  the  soul  diffusing  itself  over 
the  entire  man.    Love,  that  is,  never  fails.  This 


112 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


sufficiently  proves  that  it  must  be  directed  to  objects 
which  are  themselves  eternal  and  imperishable ;  and 
that  it  must  become  proper  to  the  heart  in  such  a 
manner,  that  in  no  condition  of  being  it  can  be  de- 
prived of  its  presence.  It  is  not,  indeed,  of  a  par- 
ticular, defined  love,  of  which  the  Apostle  speaks  —  j 
not  even  of  that  of  the  Supreme  Being  —  but  of  an 
inward  sentiment,  or  disposition  of  the  soul,  which 
pours  forth  itself  upon  all  things  worthy  of  love,  or 
to  which  love  can  be  applied.  At  the  first  view  of 
the  subject  it  is  not  easy  to  understand,  why,  since 
everything  here  below  is  described  as  vain  and  par- 
tial, love  alone  should  be  considered  as  belonging  to 
that  which  is  entire  and  perfect.  Whatever  else  the 
Apostle  names  is  plainly  spoken  of  as  imperfect, 
because  it  cannot  be  otherwise  in  finite  beings ;  and 
love  itself,  however  pure  and  exalted  it  may  be,  still 
only  exists  in  finite  creatures,  as  described  in  this 
portion  of  Scripture.  The  distinction  which  is  made 
may  probably  be  thus  explained : — The  other  things 
of  which  the  Apostle  speaks  as  imperfect,  presuppose 
a  degree  of  knowledge  and  power  to  render  them 
otherwise,  which  cannot  be  found  in  human  and 
finite  beings ;  but  love,  on  the  contrary,  has  its  birth 
in  a  condition  confessedly  necessitous :  it  pertains 
purely  to  sentiment  and  feeling,  and  is  altogether 


f 

Ii  I  M  BOL  I)  T  'S  L  E  T  I  ERS.  \  \  3 

self-sacrificing,  obedient,  and  resigned.  Hence  it  is 
not  so  confined  or  contracted  by  the  bonds  of  a  finite 
nature.  But  it  could  not  indeed  abide  in  man  at  all, 
if  there  were  not  in  his  innermost  being  a  principle 
which  connects  him  with  the  infinite ;  and  when  the 
breath  of  love  once  inspires  him,  he  feels  more  than 
ever  his  relationship  with  Heaven.  But,  as  I  said 
at  the  beginning,  most  persons  will  interpret  this 
passage  of  the  Bible,  and  without  necessarily  mis- 
understanding it,  according  to  their  own  individual 
feeling.  I,  on  the  contrary,  believe,  that  the  term 
"love,"  as  here  used,  ought  to  be  understood  as 
distinct  from  all  particular,  individual  sentiments : 
that  it  should  be  taken  only  as  the  representation 
of  a  loftier  state  of  the  soul,  which,  free  from  all 
selfishness,  far  removed  from  the  influence  of  every 
passion,  complacently  resigns  itself  alike  to  prosperity 
and  adversity,  and  from  this  its  own  state  of  rest 
diffuses  a  genial  warmth  upon  all  by  which  it  is 
surrounded.  And  hence  it  is  said,  that  love  envieth 
not ;  behaveth  not  itself  unseemly,  &c. :  hence  it  is 
that  it  is  raised  above  faith  and  hope,  and  especially 
above  works,  which  can  only  appear  for  the  moment. 
And  this  is  properly  the  case,  since,  if  love  be  as 
here  described,  works  must  spring  from  its  own 
influence.    To  this  state  of  the  soul,  anxiety,  rest- 


114 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


lessness,  care,  covetousness,  thoughts  of  right,  rather 
than  of  duty,  arising  from  vanity  and  self-conceit,  are 
altogether  foreign.  It  is  thus  that  I  interpret  this 
portion  of  Scripture ;  but  I  am  far  from  asserting 
that  no  other  view  might  be  taken  of  its  meaning. 


ou  ask  me  what  is  the  meaning  of  that  distinction 


_L  between  those  who  prophesy,  and  those  who 
speak  with  tongues,  which  St.  Paul  makes  in  the 
14th  chapter  of  the  1st  epistle  to  the  Corinthians. 
It  is,  indeed,  a  difficult  passage,  and  one  which  we 
may  consider  a  long  while  without  finding  out  the 
right  meaning.  The  distribution  of  light  and  shade 
in  the  New  Testament,  is  one  of  its  chief  beauties. 
All  that  which  concerns  the  improvement,  the  com- 
fort, the  edification  of  man,  is  perfectly  clear,  and  the 
clear-obscure  of  the  less  apparent  passages  is  by  no 
means  an  injury  to  it,  A  man  whilst  he  fulfils  his 
duties,  which  is  the  only  thing  absolutely  necessary, 
must  have  some  guide  and  assistance  in  his  passage 
over  the  deep  waters  of  life,  and  in  fathoming  their 
depths ;  and  this  guide  and  assistance  he  finds  in 


LETTER  XXIX. 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS.  115 

these  passages  of  a  book  which  is  given  him  to  be 
ever  in  his  hands ;  mysteries  are  placed  before  him 
that  by  earnest  contemplation  he  may  fathom  them. 
I  understand  the  passage  respecting  the  speaking 
with  tongues  thus :  —  The  Apostle  has  placed  the 
two  things  in  opposition.  Speaking  is  with  the 
tongue  or  with  tongues,  and  prophesying  with  the 
spirit  and  the  understanding.  Luther  has,  I  believe, 
so  translated  the  Greek  word ;  but  I  have  no  German 
Bible  at  hand.  By  the  speaking  with  tongues,  he 
understands,  as  I  think,  that  inspired  discourse  which, 
obeying  some  superior  impulse,  springs  forth  from  the 
heart  of  a  man,  without  care  whether  it  be  heard  or 
understood.  Of  this  kind  is  a  man's  discourse  with 
God  and  himself.  He  does  not  understand  the  word 
"prophecy"  as  a  prediction  of  the  future,  but  an 
open  declaration  of  great  and  important  truths : 
whoever  did  this  in  the  east  was  called  a  prophet, 
such  a  declaration  having  plainly  for  its  purpose 
instruction  and  edification ;  and  that  it  might  be 
suited  to  the  capacities  of  the  hearers,  it  was  neces- 
sarily conveyed  in  words  prepared  by  the  under- 
standing of  some  for  the  understanding  of  others. 
The  Apostle,  therefore,  very  properly  defines  the 
relation  which  these  two  voices  of  the  soul  bear  to 

each  other.    The  speech  of  inspiration  is  the  most 
8 


116 


///  MBU  LI)  T'S  LETTERS. 


glorious  of  the  voices  of  humanity ;  on  the  nature 
of  a  man's  conversation  with  God,  depends  his  capa- 
bility of  being  useful  to  his  fellow  men.  By  that 
means  he  edifies  himself,  and,  as  the  Apostle  rightly 
observes,  none  can  edify  others  who  is  not  edified. 
But  this  inner  inspiration  of  a  man's  soul  is  not 
directly  useful  to  others,  and  therefore  not  so  fitted 
for  instruction  as  prophesying,  which  is  the  means 
of  giving  inspiration  to  others.  But  the  highest 
privilege  is  to  possess  both  these  gifts,  to  be  inspired 
in  ourselves,  and  to  have  power  to  instruct  others 
by  prophecy.  This  is  very  clearly  expressed  in  the 
fifth  verse,  where  the  Apostle  wishes  that  all  might 
have  the  gift  of  tongues,  but  much  rather  that  all 
should  teach,  because  this  is  so  much  the  more  use- 
ful. This  wish  of  the  Apostle  countenanced  the 
practice  of  the  early  church,  by  which  every  member 
of  the  congregation  had  a  right  to  speak.  The  ex- 
pression "  with  tongues  or  with  the  tongue,"  is  curi- 
ous, but  perfectly  right.  In  Greek,  the  word  which 
is  translated  into  our  word  tongues  signifies  foreign, 
unknown,  or  unusual  words.  This  may  be  also 
taken  into  consideration,  that  when  the  Apostles 
were  filled  with  the  Holy  Spirit  they  spoke  in  un- 
known tongues.  Both  agree  with  the  inspired  lan- 
guage which  one  uses  when  meditating  enraptured 


HUMB OLD T  'S  LETTERS. 


over  his  own  thoughts,  little  caring  or  questioning 
whether  another  understands  them  or  not.  But  I 
do  not  think  both  expressions  equally  applicable,  espe- 
cially on  this  account:  the  expression  is  "to  speak 
with  the  tongue,"  and  not  merely  with  "tongues." 
The  explanation  of  the  expression  may  be  made 
simpler.  When  a  man  speaks  of  his  own  experience, 
of  that  which  is  very  manifest  to  his  own  thoughts, 
his  tongue  is  but  the  senseless  tool  of  his  understand- 
ing. But  when  a  man  suddenly  expresses  the  exalted 
but  ill-defined  ideas  which  occur  to  him,  the  gift  of 
a  superior  spirit,  before  that  he  has  tracked  their 
glimmering  lights  to  the  full  glare  of  apparent  truth, 
it  is  not  the  understanding  which  speaks,  but  the 
tongue,  in  obedience  to  the  mandate  of  some  foreign 
power.  This  may  be  called  with  particular  correct- 
ness the  voice  of  the  Spirit.  The  word  "tongue" 
is  used  only  in  a  figurative  sense  ;  and  as  the  Apostle 
holds  that  that  which  the  tongue  declares,  in  the 
manner  which  I  have  mentioned  above,  is  the  voice 
of  an  exalted  Spirit,  even  the  Holy  Ghost,  he  may 
very  properly  attribute  such  sayings  of  men  to  the 
"tongue."  The  Holy  Spirit  lays  the  truth  on  men's 
tongues,  which  they  could  never  find  or  comprehend 
of  their  own  power.  It  is  well  said  of  a  man  who 
expresses  what  he  does  not  think,  that  he  speaks 
with  the  tongue  and  not  with  the  heart. 


118  HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 

The  tongue  speaks  in  this  case  (from  an  inner 
inspiration  or  divine  impulse)  without  consulting 
the  humanly  reasoning  and  judging  mind.  In  this 
consists  the  beauty  of  the  Apostle's  observation. 
We  should  ever  seek  for  inspiration,  for  conversation 
with  God,  but  ought  to  strive  much  more  earnestly 
for  an  understanding  fitted  to  instruct. 

Yours,  H. 


LETTER  XXX. 

Berlin,  March  12,  1824. 

I return  you  my  hearty  thanks  for  your  letter  of 
the  21st.  I  am  very  grieved  to  find  that  you 
are  still  a  prey  to  imaginary  anxieties  and  sad  fore- 
bodings. Do,  I  beseech  you,  dear  Charlotte,  make 
every  effort  to  gain  greater  command  over  your  own 
mind,  for  the  sake  of  its  inner  health  and  improve- 
ment. Whether  I  write  early  or  late,  fully  or  briefly, 
depends  on  so  many  adventitious  circumstances,  that 
you  must  never  suffer  anything  of  that  sort  to  give 
you  a  moment's  uneasiness.  It  is  pleasant  to  find, 
in  your  anxiety  after  the  state  of  my  health,  another 
proof  of  your  friendship,  but  I  assure  you  that  I  am 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


119 


perfectly  well.  My  whole  time  is  occupied  with 
important  matters.  I  scarcely  leave  my  library  till 
late  in  the  evening.  I  am  busy  and  active.  Surely 
no  one  could  fear  ill  health  who  passed  a  life  like 
this !  I  know  that  any  day  or  hour  may  bring  with 
it  ill  health,  but  when  it  comes  it  will  find  me  pre- 
pared. Sickness  has  but  little  effect  on  my  mind, 
for  I  have  disciplined  myself,  from  very  early  youth, 
and  you  must  not  think  me  very  unfortunate  should 
I  for  once  be  really  ill,  for  I  have  been  able  to  give 
such  a  direction  to  my  occupations  that  they  would 
suffer  but  little  injury  from  any  present  delay.  I  am 
glad  to  find,  from  your  letter,  that  you  are  in  good 
health,  and  have  passed  through  this  very  severe 
winter  much  more  happily  than  I  had  expected. 
In  the  absence  of  lasting  and  violent  cold,  I  care 
but  little  for  the  petty  annoyances  which  are  neces- 
sarily attendant  on  changeable  winter  weather. 
Genuine  actual  cold  has  somewhat  more  in  it  than 
simply  physical  benumbing  effect ;  it  occurs  regularly 
that  men  should  never  be  altogether  free  from  its 
visitation  ;  it  gives  Nature  herself  so  uniform  a  look, 
and  is  truly  unmerciful  to  the  poor,  unless  they  are 
so  happy  as  to  live  in  southern  lands,  where  they 
are  at  least  free  from  this  plague.  It  is  long,  my 
dear  Charlotte,  since  you  sent  me  any  portion  of 


120 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


your  biography.  The  winter,  I  suppose,  with  its 
multitudinous  occupations  and  short  days,  is  guilty 
of  this  neglect.  I  earnestly  request  you,  if  you  have 
time  and  inclination,  to  continue  your  narrative  to 
the  time  of  your  marriage.  I  will  not  ask  you  for 
more  than  this.  But  up  to  this  point  your  autobiog- 
raphy must  be,  I  think,  an  amusing  and  comforting 
occupation.  If  you  have  sufficient  to  form  a  tolerably 
large  packet,  pray  send  it  to  me  directly,  in  the  usual 
way.  Remember  that  the  condition  of  my  being 
pleased  by  your  exertions  is  that  they  are  pleasing 
to  you  also.  That  which  you  have  already  sent  me 
forms  a  cheerful,  attractive,  and  vivid  picture,  which 
it  would  be  a  pity  not  to  finish,  as  it  now  needs  but 
so  few  touches. 

I  spent  some  hours  to-day  in  Tegel,  and,  unfavor- 
able as  was  the  weather,  enjoyed  them  very  much. 
The  spring  approaches  rapidly,  and  fills  us  with  the 
sense  of  a  new  youth.  Our  spirits  become  joyous, 
and  we  imagine  that  a  new  period  of  existence  is 
dawning  upon  us,  without  thinking  how  few,  how 
very  few  months  must  elapse  before  the  return  of 
winter.  But  this  self-deception  is  delightful  and 
healthful,  an  ever-recurring  pleasurable  circumstance 
of  life.  I  may  say,  at  least,  for  my  own  part,  that  I 
have  experienced  similar  sensations  from  my  earliest 


//  CM  Ii  0  /,  I)  T  'S  LETTERS. 


121 


childhood ;  and  I  cannot  imagine  you,  so  interested 
and  active  as  you  are,  in  your  garden,  without  them. 
With  the  most  unchanging  affection,  I  remain, 


he  successful  issue  of  our  undertakings  is  the 


JL  result  of  an  indescribable  energy  which  is  not 
the  part  of  a  man's  own  nature ;  a  blessing  which, 
as  you  rightly  observe,  proceeding  from  a  higher 
intelligence,  rests  on  each  man  with  a  fulness  pro- 
portioned to  the  purity  of  his  soul.  A  blessing  which 
once  gained  cannot  be  lost,  but  is  ever  working  in  a 
man's  inner  being,  invisibly  and  mysteriously.  The 
ideas  of  men,  who  are  the  most  anxious  that  their 
ideas  should  be  correct,  respecting  happiness  and 
unhappiness,  are  so  various  and  undecided,  that  it 
has  ever  been  a  great  object  with  me  to  render  my- 
self independent  of  either;  and  from  the  success 
which,  to  a  certain  degree,  has  attended  my  efforts, 
I  am  convinced  that  a  large  amount  of  happiness 
may  be  the  .portion  of  every  man,  who  is  ready  to 
draw  the  good  and  the  sweet  from  all  the  circum- 


Yours, 


EL 


LETTER  XXXI. 


April,  1824. 


122 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


stances  of  life,  without  identifying  himself  with 
any. 

Although,  dear  Charlotte,  you  did  not  perfectly 
understand  my  last  letter,  you  at  least  learned  from 
it  the  continuance  of  my  most  hearty  interest  in 
everything  which  concerns  you,  my  tenderest  sym- 
pathy. I  wish  nothing  more  sincerely  than  that, 
free  from  all  your  vexations,  you  may  lead  a  quiet 
happy  life,  in  the  full  possession  of  your  health,  and 
of  those  simple  pleasures  which  you  hold  so  dear. 
1  rejoice  that  I  have  a  prominent  place  in  your 
thoughts,  and  repeat  my  earnest  prayer  that  you 
will  never  hesitate  to  express  any  wish  that  you 
may  have  beyond  your  means,  which,  if  it  be  within 
mine,  shall  be  instantly  gratified.  Lay  aside  all 
false  delicacy.  Remember  our  agreement  of  mutual 
confidence.  I  am  very  grieved  to  find  that  you  still 
make  such  exertions  whilst  yet  suffering  distress 
both  of  body  and  mind.  Although  I  honor  you  for 
it,  I  cannot  but  wish  to  see  you  in  a  position  more 
accordant  with  your  original  station,  possessing  that 
leisure  which  you  could  employ  so  well.  Permit 
me  to  advise  you  to  indulge  yourself  with  some 
recreation  or  luxury  in  this  beautiful  spring-tide. 
Would  not  a  course  of  baths  do  you  good  ?  Answer 
me,  dear  Charlotte,  in  full  confidence. 

Yours,  H. 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


123 


LETTER  XXXII. 


May. 


ou  cannot  imagine  the  pleasure  which  the  last 


J-  portion  of  your  biography  has  given  me.  I 
have  read  it  through  with  the  greatest  sympathy. 
It  is  a  most  happy  and  interesting  picture  of  the  life 
which  you  led  in  the  midst  of  happy  circumstances 
and  interesting  people.  It  makes  the  past  visible  as 
the  present.  You  have  delineated  most  accurately 
the  various  manners  and  characteristics  of  the  Ger- 
man provinces;  and  in  these,  as  well  as  in  many 
other  portions  of  your  narrative,  not  directly  con- 
nected with  yourself,  I  have  been  exceedingly  in- 
terested :  among  other  things,  with  your  account  of 
Baum,  which  formed  the  summer  residence  of  the 
remarkable  and  famous  Earl  of  Lippe-Bückeburg. 
The  dwellings  of  distinguished  men  always  have  a 
peculiarly  moving  and  exalting  charm  for  me ;  a 
charm  which  I  feel  to  its  fullest  extent  in  approach- 
ing places  connected  with  such  associations  as  Pots- 
dam. Kings  always  transform  the  neighborhood  of 
their  habitations,  and  stamp  it  with  the  impress  of 
their  glory,  giving  to  contemplative  minds  many  a 
trace  of  their  characters.    The  mere  thought  even 


124 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


that  we  walk  on  spots,  and  in  the  midst  of  scenes, 
where  they  have  once  walked,  which  they  have  once 
beheld,  helps  the  mind  to  realize  the  idea  which  it 
has  formed  of  them,  and  excites  feelings  in  my  heart 
which,  to  those  of  a  cold  and  practical  disposition, 
may  appear  ridiculous. 

Baum  must  have  been  made  by  its  possessor,  if  I 
may  credit  your  beautiful  and  brilliant  description,  a 
remarkable  and  attractive  place.  The  union  of  the 
princely  resources  of  art  and  unwearied  boldness  of 
fancy,  with  the  glorious  charms  of  nature,  is  pecu- 
liarly delightful ;  and,  judging  from  the  few  parts  of 
Westphalia,  which  I  have  seen,  the  breadth,  depth, 
and  freshness  of  the  scenes  which  you  describe 
must  give  them  a  nobleness  indescribable.  But  far 
more  interesting  to  me  than  any  physical  beauties 
are  the  sketches  which  you  give  of  the  earl's  life. 
The  tenderness  of  his  feelings  for  a  sick  wife,  the 
philosophy  and  love  for  religion  of  a  man  who  was 
distinguished  for  his  courage,  high  spirit,  and  so 
many  extraordinary  qualities,  as  appears  from  the 
anecdotes  which  you  relate  respecting  him,  the 
domestic  virtues,  I  say,  of  such  a  man  have  a 
double  beauty.  Especially  affecting  is  the  care  with 
which  he  ever  tended  his  sick  wife  himself,  refusing 
to  entrust  her  to  the  love  of  any  but  himself.  In 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


125 


that  strict  solitude  in  which  he  lived  with  the  object 
of  all  his  affections,  and  which  he  made  jet  stricter 
after  her  death,  appears  the  might  of  his  soul,  which 
was  sufficient  of  itself  for  itself,  and  found  in  itself 
that  contentment  which  so  many  seek  in  vain.  That 
the  unfortunate  man  died  of  poison,  I  consider  one 
of  those  tales  which  were  formerly  current  in  Pro- 
testant countries,  respecting  those  who  had  been  in 
Southern  lands  and  were  engaged  in  hostilities  with 
the  priesthood.  Xo  poison  is  known  of  so  slow  an 
action  as  his  is  said  to  have  been ;  as  for  Aqua 
Toffana,  it  is  a  perfectly  meaningless  name,  or,  at 
least,  it  is  quite  certain  that  there  is  no  known 
poison  of  that  name.  In  the  hall  of  an  old  house 
near  here  there  used  to  hang  many  pictures  of 
princes  and  other  remarkable  persons,  with  all  of 
whom  my  father  was  well  acquainted,  and  among 
them  a  portrait  of  William,  Earl  of  Lippe-Bücke- 
burg, which  I  remember  very  well.  But  when  the 
French  were  in  this  part  of  the  country,  and  many 
of  them  quartered  in  this  mansion,  most  of  the 
paintings  were  injured  or  lost,  the  earl's  portrait 
being  among  the  latter,  for  which  I  doubly  grieve 
after  reading  your  account. 

The  power  which  you  possessed  as  a  child  of 
creating  phantasies  of  objects,  whose  existence  you 


126 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


wished  or  expected,  belonged  to  me  also  from  my 
earliest  infancy,  from  my  sixth  year  I  think.  The 
habit  seems  to  have  been  first  aroused  in  you  by  the 
longing  for  a  friend,  and  the  perusal  of  Clarissa ;  but 
was  caused  in  me  by  no  outward  circumstances  that 
I  remember.  The  objects  which  passed  through  my 
mind  in  this  manner  were  very  numerous  and 
various ;  but  one  has  remained  with  me  from  the 
time  of  my  childhood  until  now,  and  will  probably 
so  remain  until  my  death.  If  I  lie  awake  at  night, 
ride  or  walk  alone,  or  at  any  time  am  unoccupied  in 
my  thoughts,  this  phantom  of  my  childhood  stalks 
before  me,  ever  changing  its  form,  but  still  ever  the 
same.  As  this  is  an  object  unlike  any  of  the  figures 
which  I  meet  in  life,  it  disappears  before  the  reality 
of  life ;  but  whether  it  approach  or  leave  me,  I  am 
ever  heartily  thankful  for  this  power  of  peopling  my 
thoughts.  It  is  especially  the  natural  consequence 
of  all  activity  of  mind  and  liveliness  of  imagination, 
that  the  realities  of  life  fall  into  the  shade,  and  the 
diminution  of  the  too  great  importance  which  we 
attach  to  them  is  ever  healthful,  for  then  misfortune 
has  less  power  to  harm  us,  happiness  ceases  to  de- 
pend on  their  enjoyment,  and  makes  the  thought 
bearable  that  good  fortune  is  transitory.    You  will 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS.  121 

please  me  very  much  by  continuing  diligently  your 
autobiography. 

Yours,  most  affectionately,  H. 


LETTER  XXXIII. 

Tegel,  June  15,  1824. 

Dear  Charlotte, 

I return  you  many  thanks  for  your  last  letter,  and 
that  dated  the  22d  May,  both  of  which  I  re- 
ceived just  before  Whitsuntide.  I  write  to  you 
some  days  later  than  I  should  otherwise  have  done, 
because,  as  in  the  first  of  these  letters,  you  promised 
another  very  speedily,  I  thought  it  better  to  wait 
until  I  could  answer  both  at  the  same  time.  This 
is  my  apology  for  the  neglect  of  which  I  have  appa- 
rently been  guilty.  My  joy  that  your  health  is 
generally  very  good  has  been  much  damped  by  the 
account  which  you  give  of  the  pains  in  your  hands, 
which  have  plainly  declared  themselves  rheumatic, 
by  their  continuance  through  this  fine  warm  weather; 
and  may,  if  not  met  in  time  with  the  proper  reme- 
dies, which  I  entreat  you  to  use  immediately,  be  the 
forerunner  of  a  severe  attack  of  gout.    Does  this 


128 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


pain  in  your  hands  simply  disturb,  or  seriously 
trouble  you  in  your  occupations?  Pray  remember 
that  the  pleasure,  the  very  great  pleasure  which  I 
take  in  your  letters  would  be  purchased  too  dearly, 
if  at  the  expense  of  feeling  that  its  gratification 
caused  you  annoyance  and  distress.  I  am  inclined 
to  think,  however,  that  your  ordinary  occupations 
now  cause  you  less  pain,  partly  because,  as  you 
once  said,  the  portion  of  the  work  which  requires 
most  effort  you  can  accomplish  by  the  aid  of  others, 
and  partly  because  while  writing  requires  but  little 
strength,  the  holding  of  the  pen  is  itself  painful.  I 
have  ever  disliked  writing,  and  even  now  write 
unwillingly;  this  may  sound  strange  from  one  who 
has  written  so  much  as  I,  but,  nevertheless,  it  is 
true.  Still  I  have  not  written  so  much  as  the  world 
might  suppose.  From  my  childhood  I  have  loved 
to  live  in  my  own  soul  rather  than  in  the  world 
amidst  my  fellow  creatures,  and  have  seldom  taken 
pleasure  in  communicating  with  others.  I  have 
never  taken  any  pleasure  either  in  narrating  or  de- 
scribing, and  when  it  has  been  necessary  that  I 
should  do  either,  my  narrations  and  descriptions 
have  been  as  short  as  possible ;  while,  on  the  other 
hand,  I  have  taken  especial  delight  in  the  narrations 
and  descriptions  of  others.  You  may,  perhaps,  trace 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


129 


some  selfishness  in  this  love  of  receiving  and  dislike 
to  giving,  —  be  it  so,  I  must  plead  guilty.  It  has 
ever  been  my  nature  to  write  little  and  sjJeak  little  ; 
when  I  make  an  exception  to  these  habits,  it  is  to 
please  some  one  who  may  value  my  writings  and 
my  words. 

You  seem,  dear  Charlotte,  to  be  once  more  busily 
engaged  with  your  occupations,  at  which,  if  it  does 
not  weary  you  too  much,  I  am  greatly  rejoiced.  I 
have  ever  honored  the  peculiar  strength  of  your 
character  which  has  enabled  you  to  maintain  your 
independence  after  your  great  losses ;  and  in  the 
prosecution  of  this  object  to  soften,  if  not  forget, 
many  of  your  sorrows,  and  to  gratify  your  chief 
inclination,  the  contemplation  of  nature.  And  it 
has  therefore  ever  been  my  wish  that  you  should 
give  such  a  direction  to  this  pursuit  as  to  render  its 
continuance  possible  and  advantageous  to  you  in 
later  years,  and  at  less  expense  of  labor. 

I  share  to  its  full  extent  your  feeling  that  visits 
are  more  disturbing  during  a  short  period  of  relaxa- 
tion from  our  ordinary  occupations  than  at  any  other 
time,  and  am  with  you  very  much  opposed  to  the 
practice  Which  most  people  follow  of  overwhelming 
one  at  such  times  with  their  unwelcome  attentions. 
I  shall  commence  my  journey  within  a  few  days,  and 


130 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


as  I  cannot  be  certain  of  the  place  of  my  residence 
until  the  end  of  July,  must  request  you,  although  it 
will  be  a  'great  sorrow  to  me  to  have  no  letters  from 
you  for  so  long  a  time,  not  to  write  till  after  then, 
and  then  to  direct  to  Ottmachau,  near  Neisse,  in 
Silesia.  Farewell !  I  remain,  with  unchangeable 
affection,  Yours,  H. 


LETTER  XXXIV. 

Herrnstadt,  June  9,  1824. 

Dear  Charlotte, 

I write  to  you  in  the  Roman  characters,  because 
my  eye-sight  has  been  for  some  time  very  bad, 
and  I  discover  that  the  large  clear  Roman  letters  try 
them  less  than  the  little  German  figures.  The  change 
will  render  also  the  perusal  of  my  writing  less  diffi- 
cult to  you.  There  are  some  persons,  I  know,  who 
dislike  the  Roman  text,  and  will  not  use  it  in  corre- 
sponding with  persons  whom  they  esteem.  You  are, 
I  well  know,  free  from  such  narrow  prejudices,  but 
if  you  dislike  in  any  way  this  mode  of  writing,  I 
will  instantly  desist  from  the  innovation,  ff  I  have 
never  informed  you  of  the  circumstance  of  my  second 
daughter's  marriage,  it  is  scarcely  probable  that  you 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS.  \%\ 

will  know  anything  of  the  place  from  which  I  date 
my  letter  ;  but  you  must  not  be  surprised  at  this,  for, 
as  I  wrote  to  you  from  Berlin,  it  is  a  very  unusual 
thing  with  me  to  make  any  mention  in  my  letters 
of  family  affairs.  I  have  been  but  a  very  few  days 
at  this  place,  an  unimportant  little  town,  distant 
about  a  day's  journey  from  Breslau,  and  after  a  few 
more  I  propose  going  to  my  estate  at  Ottmachau,  to 
which  place  I  wish  you  to  direct  your  next  letter. 
I  have  always  taken  a  peculiar  pleasure  in  thinking 
that  for  our  sakes  a  friend  regards  a  place,  whose 
name  he  has  scarcely  ever  heard,  with  friendly  sym- 
pathy as  our  abode.  Such  feelings  will  be  excited 
in  your  heart  by  the  superscription  of  my  letter. 
The  weather  here  is  warm  and  moist ;  and,  although 
rather  relaxing  to  the  spirits,  has  for  me  a  very 
pleasing  melancholy.  The  silence  of  nature  is  more 
sweetly  still,  and  a  veil  of  haze  darkling  over  all 
the  landscape  softens,  without  obscuring,  forms  and 
colors.  I  am  doubly  attentive,  during  a  journey, 
to  the  various  modifications  of  the  scenery  which 
are  produced  by  the  changes  of  the  atmosphere, 
finding,  in  these  modifications  of  physical  scenery, 
semblances  of  the  various  shades  of  character  among 
men ; — calm  and  boisterous,  gentle  and  harsh,  cheer- 
ful and  mournful,  humorous  and  morose,  they  are  all 
9 


132 


7/ UMBO L  DT' S  L  E  T TERS. 


there.  In  this  manner  they  appear  to  him  who 
knows  how  to  view  them  aright.  I  may  safely 
affirm  that  I  only  experience  this  feeling  so  far  as 
it  is  agreeable  and  cheering.  The  weather  never 
has  any  unpleasant  influence  upon  me ;  but  be  it 
foul  or  fair,  I  receive  it  with  as  much  indifference  as 
smiling  or  terrible  scenes  in  a  theatre.  I  suppose, 
bv-the-by,  that  you  never,  or  at  most  but  very  seldom, 
visit  the  theatre.  It  has  closed  doors  for  me,  for  my 
eyes  are  too  weak  to  bear  the  glare  of  the  lamps,  and 
my  hearing  too  weak  to  distinguish  the  words  of  the 
best  speaker.  The  genius  even  of  a  company  of 
actors,  who  are  now  performing  here,  and  in  whose 
theatre  one  need  not  fear  being  blinded  by  excess  of 
light,  and  where  the  complaint  is  not  that  of  not 
hearing,  but  of  being  stunned  by  hearing  too  much, 
has  not  prevailed  upon  me  to  break  through  my  usual 
habit.  A  person  debars  himself  of  much  who  neglects, 
when  not  compelled  to  do  so  by  circumstances,  to  see 
a  good  play  in  the  hands  of  good  actors.  Even  where 
the  actors  are  but  indifferent,  if  the  piece  be  but  a 
good  one,  there  is  something  wThich  interests  and 
exalts  most  people  to  a  far  higher  degree  than  could 
have  been  effected  by  the  solitary  perusal  of  any 
book ;  but,  on  the  other  hand,  how  much  swreeter, 
how  charming  a  thing  it  is.  apart  from  all  other 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


133 


friends,  to  find  a  friend  in  a  book!  When  I  was 
young,  and  even  when  I  had  reached  man's  estate, 
I  took  a  lively  pleasure  in  justifying  my  aversion  to 
society,  and  my  old  inclinations  are  now,  when  they 
are  so  suitable  to  my  age,  firmer  than  ever.  I  always 
looked  forward  to  old  age  with  peculiar  delight,  and 
now  that  I  am  approaching  it,  I  find  my  expectations 
surpassed.  I  am  fifty-seven  years  old,  and  having 
been  subject  to  but  very  few  bodily  afflictions — hav- 
ing led  a  very  regular  life,  and  indulged  in  no  excite- 
ments which  injure  health — I  have  not  many  infirmi- 
ties. But  it  is  difficult  to  obtain,  in  early  youth,  a 
perfect  serenity  of  soul,  and  independence  of  all  out- 
ward things,  and  when  obtained,  it,  unfortunately, 
too  frequently  becomes  coldness  and  insensibility, 
which  are  worse  than  the  greatest  susceptibility.  It 
is  by  no  means  just  to  say  that  old  age  is  entirely 
dependent  on  circumstances  and  chance,  for  though 
this  may  be  the  case  to  a  certain  extent  in  outward 
material  things,  it  is  very  much  less  even  in  these 
than  is  commonly  supposed ;  the  desires,  at  least,  of 
an  old  man  who  has  well  ordered  his  life,  seldom 
exceed  the  powers  which  age  has  left  him  for  their 
gratification.  On  the  other  side,  real  independence, 
and  an  independence  productive  of  still  greater  hap- 
piness, gains  vastly  by  this  means.  Want  of  patience 


134 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


and  resignation  are  the  things  which  make  us  doubly 
sensible  of  our  sorrows,  and  increase  the  burden  of 
our  griefs.  Old  age  affords  an  especial  cure  for  both 
these  evils,  supposing,  that  is,  it  has  no  deeply-rooted 
perverse  dispositions,  which  would  poison  any  period 
of  life.  But  the  greatest  gain  which  springs  from  this 
spiritual  freedom,  from  this  freedom  from  passion, 
this  long-suffering,  serene,  and  time-softened  disposi- 
tion, is,  that  reflection  is  thereby  purer,  stronger, 
better  sustained;  that  the  intellectual  horizon  be- 
comes clearer;  and  that  the  soul,  occupying  itself 
with  every  kind  of  knowledge,  and  every  kind  of 
truth,  has  no  other  desire.  A  contemplative  inquiring 
life  is  the  highest  state  of  existence  in  this  world,  and 
can  only  be  enjoyed  perfectly  in  age.  In  early  life 
the  clamor  of  the  world  and  even  our  duties  distract 
our  thoughts.  But  it  would  be  an  error  to  suppose 
that  this  pleasure  could  be  enjoyed  without  a  deep 
and  extensive  knowledge  of  human  life.  For  these 
supply  reflection  with  its  food,  with  a  wide  and  mani- 
fold series  of  images.  Nevertheless  the  most  needful, 
holy,  and  cheering  truths  are  frequently  better  under- 
stood, more  deeply  fathomed,  by  plain,  simple  minds, 
than  by  those  which  have  traversed  wide  fields  of 
knowledge.  These  truths  have,  moreover,  the  pecu- 
liarity that,  although  they  give  no  trouble  in  their 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


135 


discovery,  arising,  as  it  were,  spontaneously  in  the 
mind,  they  ever  offer  something  new,  because  they 
are  actually  endless  and  inexhaustible.  These  truths 
connect  themselves  with  every  age,  but  most  natu- 
rally with  that  which  stands  nearest  to  the  final 
solution  of  all  those  infinite  riddles  which  involve 
these  truths.  A  certain  kind  of  vitality  is  diminished 
in  our  later  years,  but  it  is  only  an  outward,  falsely 
prized  life.  The  much  more  beneficial,  more  beautiful, 
and  nobler  kind,  that  which  unfolds  itself  in  fruitful 
purity,  is  peculiar  to  old  age.  I  know,  dear  Charlotte, 
that  your  sentiments  are  the  same  as  mine  in  these 
matters,  and  that  my  observations  respecting  them 
will  not  be  altogether  unpleasant.  Such  matters, 
indeed,  are  well  fitted  for  such  a  correspondence, 
which,  forgetful  of  the  narrow  limits  of  worldly 
matters,  ever  seeks  to  be  the  unreserved  communi- 
cation of  two  mutually  sympathizing  minds.  Please 
to  direct  to  Ottmachau,  according  to  the  new  direction 
which  I  have  given  you.  With  the  most  unfeigned 
affection,  I  remain  yours,  H. 


136 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


/ 


LETTER  XXXV. 

Tegel,  September  ia,  1824. 

Dear  Charlotte, 

I returned  to  this  place  some  few  days  since,  and 
have  made  it  one  of  my  first  cares  to  write  to 
you.  You  will  already,  I  suppose,  have  received  my 
last  letter  from  Ottmachau.  The  autumn  promises 
to  be  very  fine,  and  I  am  doubly  pleased  at  being 
here,  as  I  can  here  enjoy  so  well  the  last  pleasant 
months  of  the  year,  the  phenomena  which  attend 
its  departure,  always  more  gratifying  to  me  than 
those  which  beautify  its  entrance.  When  we  look 
back  on  the  many  things  which  we  have  done,  the 
time  which  we  have  spent,  we  can  look  forward  with 
more  security,  because  we  feel  that  there  is  now  less 
room  for  error  and  misfortune.  A  moment  may  bring 
misfortune  and  disappointment  to  the  greatest ;  and 
so  much  in  life,  in  its  good  as  well  as  in  its  ill,  is 
nothing  but  disappointment,  that  we  may  well  be 
glad  to  reach  its  calmer  moments.  I  am  especially 
free  from  care  for  myself,  not  because  I  think  myself 
less  exposed  to  misfortune  than  other  men,  or  fear 
none  of  the  chances  of  the  world,  but  because  from 
early  youth  I  have  diligently  taught  myself  to  be 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


137 


prepared  for  every  change  of  fortune.  It  is  impos- 
sible to  resist  the  idea  that  life  is  a  vast  immense  of 
waters,  through  whose  contending  currents  we  must 
guide  our  trembling  bark,  and  it  is  most  natural  that 
we  should  rejoice  when  a  large  portion  of  the  journey 
has  been  accomplished.  This  view  of  life  as  a  whole, 
presenting  a  great  work  to  be  accomplished,  has  ever 
appeared  to  me  a  mighty  aid  towards  meeting  death 
with  serenity. 

But  if  a  man  looks  only  at  the  separate  passages 
of  life,  uniting  all  the  good  together,  how  sad  must 
be  the  rest  of  the  prospect,  how  truly  calamitous 
must  every  misfortune  appear! 

Autumn  already  has  begun  to  compensate  Nature 
for  the  loss  of  the  fresh  green  of  her  foliage,  with 
her  thousand  varied  hues ;  and  for  the  observation 
of  this,  as  well  as  of  all  the  other  changes  of  wooded 
landscape,  the  situation  of  my  house  in  the  midst 
of  innumerable  noble  trees  is  well  fitted.  Right 
before  my  threshold  scions  of  the  forest  wave  their 
green  fan-like  boughs  ;  they  form  long  avenues  across 
the  fields,  and  in  solitary  beauty  people  the  gardens 
and  vineyards ;  in  the  parks  they  stand  together  in 
many  a  dark  and  solemn  grove  ;  they  are  a  girdle 
about  the  lake,  and  a  crown  to  its  hundred  islands. 
Great  is  my  love  for  trees,  and  never,  could  I  have 


138 


H I  'M  B 0 L  I)  T ' \  L  E TTERS. 


my  wish,  should  one  be  destroyed  or  transplanted. 
It  is  a  sad  thing  to  tear  a  poor  tree  from  its  fellows 
with  whom  it  has  passed  so  many  years,  to  tear  it 
away  to  perish,  or,  at  least,  to  pine  amongst  strange 
scenes.  The  affectionate  nature  of  trees  is  manifest : 
how  firmly  they  hold  to  their  native  soil !  I  know 
nothing  in  nature  more  symbolical  of  the  love  of 
home,  of  the  deeply-rooted  longings  of  a  human 
being's  heart.  However  wide  may  be  his  wander- 
ings, his  heart  is  bound  to  one  little  spot,  where 
sometimes,  and  this  is  frequently  the  case  with 
women,  he  finds  both  his  cradle  and  his  grave ;  to 
that  little  spot,  his  first  home,  to  which,  if  his  duties 
draw  him  away,  he  frequently  returns,  he  ever  gives, 
should  this  be  impossible,  his  best  thoughts  and 
wishes. 

I  am  very  glad  to  find  that  your  garden,  if  nothing 
else,  makes  you  enjoy  a  country  residence,  and  fully 
sympathize  in  the  pleasure  which  you  take  in  your 
flowers.  The  approach  of  winter  and  autumn  is  far 
from  pleasant  to  me,  and  disturbs  many  of  my  occu- 
pations ;  but  to  compensate  this  annoyance,  my  eyes 
have  become  much  stronger  by  the  use  of  the  medi- 
cines which  have  been  recommended  me,  although 
they  still  require  much  care,  and  I  dare  not  expose 
them  to  the  light.  At  the  same  time  the  days  are  be- 


11  ( TMB GLUT'S  LE TTERS. 


139 


coming  shorter,  and  when  we  reckon  how  much  time 
is  occupied  with  the  common  circumstances  of  domes- 
tic life,  by  visits  and  interruptions  of  various  kinds, 
not  to  mention  actual  business,  little  will  be  found  to 
remain.  The  longer  I  devote  myself  to  study  and 
contemplation,  the  greater  inclination  and  love  I  have 
for  such  occupations  of  my  time.  The  things  of  the 
world  have  no  longer  any  interest  for  me,  but  pass 
by  me  as  momentary  visions,  with  which  neither  my 
mind  nor  spirit  has  any  connection.  The  circle  of 
my  acquaintance  becomes  narrower  every  day ;  my 
dearest  friends  are  dead,  and  I  have  now  lost  such 
society  as  I  think  a  man  may  ever  turn  to  good  ac- 
count as  one  of  the  best  gifts  of  fortune,  but  should 
never  seek  as  a  necessary.  But  contemplation  is  an 
immeasurable  field  of  knowledge  and  discovery,  which 
ever  offers  new  charms,  an  amusement  and  occupa- 
tion for  every  hour,  and  which  makes  us  wish  them 
magnified  a  thousand  fold.  I  have  often  passed  whole 
days  entirely  occupied  with  my  own  thoughts.  Nat- 
ural science  has  never  attracted  me.  I  am  wanting 
in  the  faculty  for  observing  outward  objects.  My 
mind  busies  itself  but  little  with  the  outward  world 
of  the  present,  and  from  its  infancy  has  devoted  the 
largest  portion  of  its  attention  to  the  study  of  an- 
tiquity.   The  nearer  humanity  is  to  its  origin,  the 


140 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


more  noble  are  its  simple  manliness,  the  deeper  and 
worthier  its  sentiments  and  ideas,  and  the  language 
of  their  expression.  To  arrive,  indeed,  at  a  full  and 
perfect  view  of  a  science  such  as  this,  we  must  under- 
take long,  laborious,  and,  frequently,  mechanical 
studies ;  but  even  these  have  their  own  peculiar 
charm,  and  are  easily  vanquished  by  habits  of  patient 
industry.  Amongst  the  most  glorious,  the  purest, 
and  most  beautiful  of  the  voices  of  hoar  antiquity, 
are  the  books  of  the  Old  Testament,  and  we  can 
never  be  sufficiently  thankful  to  our  mother-tongue 
that  it  interprets  them  to  our  ears  with  so  little  loss 
of  their  original  grandeur.  I  have  often  taken  plea- 
sure in  considering  whether  it  would  be  possible  to 
compose  any  other  book  so  sublime,  so  various,  so 
treasure-full,  as  the  Old  and  Xew  Testaments.  If 
these  were  the  only  books  in  the  possession  of  hu- 
manity, it  would  find  in  them  a  complete  course  of 
religion,  history,  poetry,  and  philosophy,  an  accord 
to  every  feeling  of  its  soul.  Unfortunately,  they 
are  so  little  understood,  as  to  be  inaccessible  to  ordi- 
nary minds  ;  and,  although  they  send  none  away 
unsatisfied,  they  open  the  vastness  of  their  treasures 
to  those  only  who  come  with  spirits  well  prepared. 

During  the  remainder  of  this  and  the  greater  part 
of  next  month  T  shall  remain  here,  and  then  propose 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


141 


spending  a  few  weeks  at  Berlin ;  to  which  place  you 
may  securely  direct  your  letters.  In  November  and 
December  I  shall  probably  make  a  tour,  as  I  did  last 
autumn,  and  conclude  it  with  a  residence  of  six  or 
seven  days  at  Burgörner ;  but  I  have  not  quite  de- 
cided respecting  this,  and  shall  certainly  write  to 
you  again  before  I  set  out  on  my  journey.  It  is 
always  most  agreeable  to  me  to  remain  in  the  same 
place,  and  seeking  another  is  in  me  as  putting 
weights  in  an  opposite  scale.  Consequently,  travel- 
ling and  change  of  residence  on  my  part  is  generally 
a  matter  of  necessity,  rarely  of  pleasure.  Farewell, 
dear  Charlotte !  With  the  utmost  affection  I  re- 
main yours,  H. 


our  letter  of  the  26th  ultimo  pleased  me  as  all 


-L  your  other  letters.  It  is  very  kind  of  you  to 
esteem  so  highly  the  delight  which  I  ever  have,  and 
ever  shall  take,  in  your  biography,  and  which  you 
rightly  attribute  to  the  pleasure  which  I  receive  not 
so  much  from  the  descriptions  which  you  give  of 
outward  circumstances  and  events,  as  from  your 


LETTER  XXXVI. 


Burgörner,  November  13,  1824. 


142 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


finely  drawn  delineations  of  your  own  soul.  I  am 
charmed  with  both.  Although  that  which  occurred 
in  the  long  past  no  longer  influences  the  objects  of 
our  present  interest,  yet  we  read  everything  con- 
nected with  this  time  with  a  true  feeling  of  its  pre- 
sence. It  is  as  though  the  particular  feelings  of  joy 
and  sorrow,  which  once  were  active,  were  active 
still,  and  to  a  certain  extent  it  is  so.  However 
great  the  power  of  time  is,  there  are  certain  senti- 
ments which,  though  no  longer  immediately  in  har- 
mony with  the  feelings,  never  entirely  vanish  from 
the  mind.  In  this  respect  there  is  somewhat  in  our 
actual  being  which  may  rightly  be  regarded  eternal. 
I  do  not  mean  merely  the  fixedness  of  feelings  which 
remain  unaltered. 

In  these  there  is  always  a  distinction  between  the 
past  and  the  present  in  the  manner  in  which  they 
remain  unaltered.  But  the  whole  of  the  feelings 
which  have  ever  affected  the  soul  form  a  so  closely 
interwoven  web,  that  the  joy  and  pain  of  days 
which  have  long  since  gone  by  still  send  a  tremor 
through  the  souls  which  they  have  ceased  directly 
to  influence.  As  it  is  with  my  own  feelings  it  is 
with  my  sympathies  for  others.  In  the  develop- 
ment of  your  former  ideas,  of  the  sentiments  of 
your  youth  and  childhood,  times  now  so  far  away, 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


143 


you  have  succeeded  uncommonly  well,  and  your 
narrations  bring  the  objects  of  which  they  speak  not 
merely  before  my  mental  vision  in  their  outward 
forms,  but  breathing  and  glowing  as  though  they 
really  lived.  Nothing  is  defective,  everything  is 
true  to  nature ;  which  proves  that  you  possess,  to 
an  unusual  degree,  that  inner  life,  in  which,  indeed, 
women  are  generally  superior  to  men,  as  well  from 
their  nature  as  from  the  difference  of  their  occupa- 
tions, which  are  by  far  the  more  suitable  for  revery 
and  contemplation ;  but  which  are  united  in  very 
few  with  such  clearness  of  thought  and  magnificent 
self-consciousness  as  they  are  in  you.  Hence  their 
intellect  in  its  activity  is  often  dark  and  confused, 
since  contemplation  in  the  first  instance  is  a  property 
of  the  outward  senses.  Your  mind,  however,  as  all 
your  descriptions,  so  defined  and  pointed,  prove,  can 
take  up  its  position  in  every  period  of  time  to  which 
your  memory  is  sufficiently  awake  to  lead  it.  Hence 
you  need  but  to  write  the  suggestions  of  your  own 
soul,  and  have  no  occasion  to  fill  up  your  sketches 
from  your  imagination,  or  to  leave  them  unfinished : 
they  are  already  perfect.  The  great  practice  which, 
beyond  most  women,  you  have  had  in  writing,  has 
aided  you  in  this ;  and  all  your  writings  are  vivid 
pictures  of  the  world  of  your  soul  and  your  life  in 


144 


HUMBOLDTS  LETTERS. 


the  world,  the  latter,  however,  only  so  far  as  it  illus- 
trates and  explains  the  former. 

You  speak  as  though  you  feared  blame  for  this 
portion  of  your  biography :  for  what  reason  I  can- 
not understand.  Assure  yourself  that  it  contains 
nothing  which  could  possibly  excite  my  displeasure. 
The  descriptions  which  you  give  of  your  now  so 
long  deceased  parents,  and  your  opinions  on  their 
characters,  part  of  which  you  have  already  written, 
could  not  be  interpreted  unfavorably.  When  we 
undertake  to  describe  a  character,  let  us  perform  our 
part  with  perfect  sincerity ;  by  softening  down  every 
shade  we  may  make  the  light  of  the  picture  the 
greater,  but  shall  do  so  at  the  expense  as  well  of 
expressiveness  as  of  truth.  To  delineate  with  an 
impartial  hand  those  to  whom  we  owe  love,  rever- 
ence, and  gratitude,  throws  no  slur  upon  the  life  of 
those  feelings  in  our  breasts.  They  spring  from  the 
original  bond  between  parents  and  children,  or  those 
whom  a  similarity  of  souls  has  united  together,  from 
that  union  which  ever  remains  as  sincere,  which  is 
ever  as  highly  prized  and  loved,  however  slight  or 
extensive  may  be  the  knowledge  which  each  has  of 
the  others'  faults.  The  love  which  the  child  owes 
to  the  parent,  the  payment  of  which  is  so  delightful 
to  an  amiable  and  gentle  disposition,  exists  more 


HUM  /J  OL  DT'  S  LET  TER  S. 


145 


frequently  in  the  inner  than  the  outward  being,  and 
without,  perhaps,  having  been  once  positively  ex- 
pressed, gleams  from  his  looks,  his  habits,  and  his 
whole  character.  It  is  one  of  the  most  beautiful 
laws  of  humanity,  which  so  easily  errs,  which  pre- 
serves its  purity  through  life  with  so  much  difficulty, 
that  we  may  love  and  ever  reverence  those  whose 
weakness  we  know,  or  whom,  at  least,  we  know  to 
be  subject  to  error.  If  a  man  be  conscious  that  he 
is  free  from  that  cold  cavilling  disposition  which, 
before  it  will  either  love  or  reverence,  must  weigh 
or  measure  with  scrupulous  eye  every  little  fault, — 
if  a  man  be  sure  that  his  friendship  is  warm  and 
sincere,  he  need  never  hesitate  to  consider  and  to 
analyze  the  character  of  his  friends.  For  my  own 
part,  I  have  very  little  inclination  either  to  blame  or 
praise  the  actions  of  others.  I  consider  things  his- 
torically, as  they  form  themselves  inwardly  and  out-  % 
wardly ;  but  in  which  case  one  can  seldom  rightly 
determine  whence  they  arose,  and  it  is  as  difficult  to 
praise  or  blame  them  with  justice.  Thus  it  is,  and 
thus  it  has  been.  Moral  worth  is  exclusively  con- 
nected with  the  sentiment  which  accompanies  the 
conduct,  and  of  this  conscience  is  the  sole  judge. 

Every  man  is  his  own  judge,  and  when  anything 
in  his  conduct  deserves  blame,  his  own  reproofs  are 


146 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


bitterer  than  those  of  any  other  could  be.  In  like 
manner  also  is  it  with  praise,  which  should  always 
rather  be  received  as  a  free-will  offering  than  as  a 
deserved  reward.  Of  course  we  can  never  praise 
ourselves  as  others  praise  us,  but  that  is  because  it 
is  pleasanter  to  give  as  well  as  to  receive  praise 
than  blame,  and  consequently  more  easy  of  ex- 
pression, for  blame  is  taciturn  in  its  excessive  bitter- 
ness. Praise  is  not  worth  much,  and  I  always  take 
care  when  I  am  its  object  to  receive  it  as  a  pleasant 
sensation,  as  metal  which  has  not  been  assayed,  and, 
if  I  do  not  use  caution,  as  very  probably  a  source 
of  injury. 

Farewell !  With  unchanging  affection  I  remain 
yours,  H. 

In  the  past  are  large  materials  for  joy  and  sorrow, 
contentment  and  repentance,  according  as  a  man  in 
his  struggles  with  fate  has  resisted  manfully,  or  sub- 
mitted with  cowardice.  What  has  there  been  found 
of  pain  is  ineffaceable  as  a  scar;  and  what  of  joy,  as 
immovable  as  a  soul-rooted  thought;  and,  besides, 
it  is  perfectly  free  from  any  anxiety  for  the  future. 

Submission  and  contentment  are  the  best  buck- 
lers against  the  sorrows  of  life.  He  who  cannot 
bear  with  firmness  want  and  suffering,  can  never  be 


7/  UM  BOLD  T'S  L  E TT ARS. 


free  from  want  and  suffering,  or,  at  least,  is  a  con- 
tinual victim  to  unpleasant  thoughts  and  feelings. 

A  man  has  perfect  power  over  himself  with  re- 
spect to  his  moral  being,  and  he  should  not  be  too 
anxious  to  possess  it  over  others. 

It  is  the  noblest  disposition,  and  that  which  pro- 
duces most  serenity  and  repose  to  the  soul,  to  avoid 
rather  than  to  strive  against  men  and  fate,  to  receive 
thankfully  that  which  they  give,  but  never  to  de- 
**'  sire ;  or  at  least  never  to  be  disheartened  at  the  loss 
of  that  which  they  deny. 

The  subject  of  inspiration  and  presentiment  is  very 
curious.  Sometimes  they  prove  right,  and  sometimes 
wrong ;  but  it  is  no  reason  why  we  should  regard  it 
as  a  matter  of  mere  chance,  when  they  prove  to 
have  been  true  prophets  of  the  future.  It  is  with 
these  as  with  everything  which  affects  our  inward 
consciousness.  This  consciousness  may  deceive  a 
man ;  he  may  regard  that  as  an  omen  which  is  none ; 
and,  on  the  other  hand,  he  may  mistake  the  meaning 
of  those  which  are.  Objective  security  is  not  possi- 
ble in  this  case.  Their  true  recognition  bears  with 
it  no  outward  signs.  There  are  constantly,  though 
often  but  weak,  indications  of  such  things ;  they 
may  be  seated  in  the  soul  itself,  or  may  be  created 

through  the  disturbing  influence  of  hope  or  fear.  In 
10 


148 


//  UM  HOL  Ü  T  'S  LETTERS. 


the  former  case  they  may  be  trusted,  in  the  latter 
not.  The  wisest  course  is  by  no  means  to  invite 
them ;  to  think  when  they  appear  of  the  possibility 
of  their  falsehood ;  and  when  they  are  unfavorable 
to  be  convinced  of  their  truth. 

Yours,  H. 


LETT  E  R   X  X  X  V  fl . 

Berlin,  December,  1824. 

Dear  Charlotte, 

1 returned  to  this  place  a  few  days  since,  and 
make  it  one  of  my  first  occupations  to  renew 
the  old,  sweet  custom  of  our  correspondence,  which 
1  know  is  as  pleasing  to  you  as  to  myself.  The  end 
of  the  year  draws  nigh,  and  this  season  always 
appears  to  me  a  fitting  time  for  the  closer  connecting 
and  renewal  of  the  bonds  of  friendly  union.  When 
I  look  back  upon  the  past  year  I  am  filled  with  a 
lively  and  sincere  thankfulness  for  the  kind  sym- 
pathy which  you  have  bestowed  upon  me,  which,  as 
I  need  scarcely  say,  together  with  your  confidence 
and  affection,  I  treasure  up  in  the  inmost  recesses 
of  my  soul.    I  return  it  most  heartily,  offering,  as  I 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


149 


have  so  frequently  offered,  my  most  ready  sympathy 
and  assistance  in  the  furtherance  of  all  things  con- 
nected with  your  welfare.  Pardon  these  strong  ex- 
pressions, which,  I  must  own,  are  unnecessary,  and 
have  never  been  called  forth  by  the  expression  of 
any  doubt  on  your  part ;  but  I  always  wish  to  speak 
as  I  feel,  as  I  should  otherwise,  I  well  know,  be 
frequently  misunderstood.  I  am  well  aware  that 
my  mode  of  declaring  my  good  wishes  is  unusual, 
but  as  I  am  I  must  be ;  and,  as  far  as  this  matter  is 
concerned,  know  not  how  to  change  my  character 
even  if  I  would.  I  make  these  observations,  be- 
cause I  feel  that  I  might  easily  be  misunderstood, 
and  because,  moreover,  I  was  very  anxious  to  de- 
clare to  you  at  this  season  that  you  shall  never 
have  just  reason  to  doubt  the  sincerity  of  my  affec- 
tion ;  that  the  impression  which  you  made  upon  me 
in  youth  shall  never  depart,  and  that  the  feelings  of 
love,  confidence,  and  gratitude,  which  you  have  ex- 
pressed for  me,  have  formed  one  of  the  chief  joys 
of  my  life.  Farewell,  dear  Charlotte  !  May  happy 
hopes  for  the  coming  year  be  yours,  and  may  bless- 
ings light  upon  you ! 

Yours,  H. 


150 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


LETTER  XXXVIII. 


Berlin,  January  31,  1825. 


Dear  Charlotte, 

to\5  will  be  somewhat  surprised  to  receive  a  letter 


-L  from  me  before  the  usual  time.  The  reason  is 
that  I  am  ill,  and  being  prevented  from  any  serious 
occupations  by  a  rather  severe  cold  and  toothache, 
I  seek  consolation  and  amusement  in  writing  to  you. 
I  am  very  patient  under  sickness,  and  cannot  prevail 
upon  myself  to  call  illness  an  evil,  which,  you  will 
say,  I  suppose,  only  proves  that  I  have  never,  or 
very  seldom,  been  seriously  ill.  And  in  this  you 
would  be  right,  but  you  must  allow  that  many 
people  make  a  great  clamor  about  very  little  annoy- 
ances. When  sickness  approaches  me  it  ever  comes 
attended  with  a  certain  species  of  rest  and  serenity 
to  the  soul ;  not  that  I  am  without  these  qualities  in 
good  health,  but  that  in  a  state  of  good  health  a 
man  is  constantly  in  an  atmosphere  of  zeal  and 
energy,  which  fall  away  in  the  time  of  sickness. 
For  the  rest  be  not  uneasy  respecting  my  indispo- 
sition, it  is  of  no  importance,  and  will  most  pro- 
bably leave  me  in  a  few  days.  It  is  the  conse- 
quence of  a  cold  wind,  to  which  I  could  not  avoid 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


151 


exposing  myself,  and  the  ill  effects  of  which  I  felt 
immediately. 

My  eyes,  of  which  you  are  kind  enough  to  think 
so  much,  are  much  better,  and,  indeed,  have  been 
quite  well  this  winter,  but  I  still  write  with  caution, 
and  use,  as  you  see,  the  Roman  letters.  Let  me 
now,  as  I  very  often  do  to  myself,  express  the  plea- 
sure with  which  I  first  read  your  last  letter,  and 
read  it  over  and  over  again,  pondering  on  every 
word.  The  great  charm  of  your  writings  is  that 
natural  power  which  you  possess  of  expressing  your 
feelings  in  a  simple  and  truthful  manner,  with  the 
right  words.  It  was  my  great  wish,  when  we  first 
renewed  our  acquaintance,  that  you  might  become 
conscious  of  my  hearty  sympathy  for  you,  and  of 
the  unchangeableness  of  my  affection.  This  is  now, 
I  hope,  the  case.  And  it  is  as  well  to  express  this 
feeling  now,  at  this  season  of  the  year's  departure, 
when  all  our  sentiments  for  those  whom  we  love 
spring  up  into  a  new  life.  I  think  much  of  the 
epochs  of  time  in  my  every-day  life,  and  the  begin- 
ning of  a  new  period  is,  I  confess,  with  me  no  ordi- 
nary season.  Times  and  seasons  are  my  masters, 
and  conform  the  flow  of  my  life  to  their  course. 

We  should  ever  remember  in  this  human  life,  that 
the  rush  of  the  tide  of  time  must  have  an  end,  for 


152 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


if  we  once  become  perfectly  conscious  of  this  truth, 
we  shall  become  perfectly  indifferent  to  pain  and 
pleasure,  good  fortune  and  bad  fortune.  What  are 
good  and  bad  fortune,  pain  and  pleasure,  but  feathers 
in  the  wing  of  Time,  which  he  sheds  and  renews 
every  instant  of  his  flight  ?  What  is  left  of  happi- 
ness after  the  departure  of  its  season,  and  where 
rests  the  sting  of  misery  after  its  night  of  bitter- 
ness ?  There  is  a  ripening  power  in  this  progres- 
sion, which  is  of  more  effect  and  more  beneficial  as 
we  reverence  and  obey  it  more  strictly,  regard  it  as 
the  greatest  of  finite  things,  the  expression  of  all 
finite  things,  and  husband  carefully  the  riches  which 
it  contains. 

I  respect  very  highly  your  activity ;  it  does  you 
much  honor,  and  is  rewarded  by  the  independence 
which  you  again  possess  after  such  great  misfortunes. 
Everything  which  you  tell  me  of  your  occupations, 
interests  me  very  much. 

I  love  above  all  things  the  laboriousness  of  women, 
and  the  labors  to  which  they  attach  themselves  direct, 
and  invite,  and  permit  them  to  live  a  life  of  feelings 
and  ideas.  To  this  I  attribute  the  deep,  beautiful, 
earnest  disposition  which  most  women  enjoy,  in  so 
far  superior  a  degree  to  most  men,  who  may  have 
even  enjoyed  a  far  superior  education.    On  women 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


153 


fall  domestic  anxieties  and  domestic  sorrows,  and 
their  souls,  dwelling  in  greater  seclusion,  holding- 
more  frequent  and  earnest  communion  with  them- 
selves than  the  souls  of  men,  are  more  susceptible 
of  outward  influences.  Alas !  how  easily  may  their 
position  become  one  of  excessive  pain. 

It  is  of  infinite  importance  to  a  man  that  he  should 
accustom  himself  to  continual  reflection  on  himself. 
We  may  say  with  equal  truth  that  a  man  is  never 
ignorant  of  himself,  and  never  rightly  knows  himself. 
He  can  know  no  one  so  intimately,  in  no  one  trace 
so  exactly  the  secret  connection  between  his  thoughts 
and  his  will,  the  source  of  his  inclinations  and  reso- 
lutions, as  in  himself.  On  the  other  hand,  whatever 
may  be  his  inclinations,  he  can  never  judge  himself 
impartially.  In  this  point  he  is  defective,  and  nothing, 
therefore,  pleases  me  more,  than  that  my  friends  and 
acquaintance  should  tell  me  of  my  failings  most  un- 
reservedly, for  I  know  that  their  judgments,  unless 
intentionally  perverted,  must  be  founded  in  reason. 
This  is  the  last  day  of  the  month,  and  the  further 
portion  of  your  biography  which  you  had  promised 
me,  and  which  I  had  so  earnestly  hoped  to  receive, 
has  not  yet  arrived,  and  cannot  now  before  the  end 
of  the  month.  You  have,  I  suppose,  missed  the  post, 
or  that  may  be  delayed  by  the  state  of  the  roads  at 


154 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


this  season  of  the  year.  However  it  may  be,  I  hope 
to  receive  it  soon.  Have  I  written  to  you  later  than 
the  12th  ?  I  think  I  must  have  written  this  month. 
Write  to  me,  in  any  case,  by  return  of  post,  as  well 
as  on  the  15th.  Farewell!  Do  not,  I  repeat,  allow 
my  indisposition  to  cause  you  any  annoyance.  With 
entire  and  unchanging  affection,  I  remain  yours, 

H. 


LETTER  XXXIX. 

Berlin,  February  8,  1825. 

Dear  Charlotte, 

I have  received  the  further  portion  of  your  biog- 
raphy, and  the  long  letter  which  accompanied 
it ;  and  intended  to  write  to  you  to-day  as  usual,  but 
a  visit  has  taken  up  my  time  until  now,  when  there 
is  but  a  quarter  of  an  hour  to  the  post.  But  I  send 
you  a  line  partly  to  assure  you  of  my  recovery,  and 
partly  because  you  express  so  earnest  a  wish  for  a 
let  tor.  I  am  very  grieved  to  find  that  my  last  letter 
has  caused  you  uneasiness.  It  is,  indeed,  a  sorrowful 
thing  to  me  to  have  caused  you  sorrow.  But  I 
solemnly  assure  you  that  no  one  can  be  less  guilty 
of  wilfully  causing  you  any  pain  than  I ;  and  I  had 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


155 


not  the  most  distant  idea,  that  what  I  expressed  with 
the  most  perfect  freedom,  trusting  to  our  high  and 
perfect  confidence,  could  have  been  so,  forgive  the 
expression,  misinterpreted.  In  all  your  letters  you 
had  imparted  to  me  your  feelings  so  unreservedly, 
had  besought  me  so  continually  to  direct  and  instruct 
you.  Had  I  thought  the  words  could  displease  you, 
I  should  still  have  depended  upon  your  ability  to 
determine  their  meaning  more  exactly.  The  sense 
which  they  were  intended  to  convey  was  always 
loving,  sympathizing,  and  kind.  Ought  you  now  to 
have  allowed  yourself  to  be  thus  troubled  ?  Would 
it  not  have  been  much  better  if  you  had  written 
directly :  "I  know  that  you  mean  well,  but  I  do  not 
like  these  observations  ?  "  Dear  Charlotte,  be  con- 
vinced of  my  unchanged  affection ;  be  sure  that  I 
never  will,  that  I  never  could,  wish  to  cause  you  any 
annoyance,  and  confide  in  me  with  a  trustful  heart. 
— You  will  have  received  a  second  letter  from  me 
before  I  receive  yours,  which,  as  you  must  think,  was 
written  in  a  most  truly  loving  and  friendly  spirit,  but 
before  I  knew  that  the  expressions  of  the  previous 
one  had  given  you  offence,  and  may  therefore,  as  it 
is  in  the  same  strain,  give  you  still  further  annoyance, 
which  makes  me  grieve  that  I  wrote  it.  Your  an- 
swer, however,  must  be  by  this  time  on  its  way,  and 


156 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


when  I  have  received  it,  I  will  write  more  fully  to 
free  myself  from  all  your  imputations.  I  must  con- 
clude for  the  present.  Farewell !  Drive  every  linger- 
ing sorrow  from  your  heart,  and  believe  that  I  remain 
your  most  sincere  friend,  H. 


LETTER  XL. 

Berlin,  Febuary  12,  1825. 

Dearest  Charlotte, 

Your  letter  of  the  6th  has  greatly  delighted  me, 
for  I  find  by  it  that  I  had  not  offended  you 
irremediably,  but  had  only  incurred  your  temporary 
displeasure.  I  was  only  distressed  and  uncertain, 
and  my  first  care  was  to  quiet  you,  as  is  evident 
from  my  short  letter.  I  was  unresolved  what  to  do. 
Probably  my  unwillingness  to  grieve  you  might  have 
induced  me  to  yield  against  my  own  convictions. 
All  this  your  affectionate  letter  has  prevented.  It 
has  pleased  me,  I  repeat,  very  much,  and  I  return 
my  hearty  thanks.  If  you  always  remain  so  good, 
so  conscious  of  the  true  and  the  right,  as  you  now 
are,  and  as  I  know  that  you  will  ever  remain,  you 
will  fulfil  that  which  I  promised  myself  from  the 
commencement  of  our  correspondence,  which  has 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


15T 


already  given  me  so  much  pleasure,  and  from  which, 
I  feel  convinced,  I  shall  receive  yet  more.  I  will  do 
as  you  request  with  respect  to  your  letter  before  the 
last ;  I  will  burn  it,  forget  it,  never  mention  it  again, 
and  never  allow  one  syllable  of  it  to  disturb  the 
pleasure  which  I  take  in  your  other  epistles.  At 
the  same  time  I  will  maintain  the  tone  of  mine,  and 
fearlessly  and  freely  express  my  opinions ;  it  is  natu- 
ral that  I  should  guide,  and  that  you  should  follow. 
But  it  will  always  rest  with  you  to  allow  or  to  deny 
me  this  privilege. 

My  health  is  perfectly  re-established,  and  I  pursue 
my  customary  occupations,  which  are  peculiarly 
agreeable  to  me,  as  being  entirely  self-chosen,  and 
connected  with  general  principles.  And  these  pur- 
suits, which  I  have  followed  through  the  greater  part 
of  my  life,  have  been  the  source  of  that  tendency  to 
earnestness,  revery,  and  contemplation,  which  is  so 
manifest  in  my  disposition.  I  have  reduced  all  sur- 
rounding things  and  circumstances  to  a  certain  sys- 
tem, which,  however,  I  am  so  far  from  declaring  to 
be  always  right,  that  I  am  continually  considering 
every  part,  anxious  to  correct  any  errors  which  it 
may  contain.  But  as  long  as  I  consider  anything  to 
be  true,  I  cannot  endure  that  it  should  be  held  to  be 
otherwise  in  a  circle  over  which  I  have  any  influence. 


158 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


I  can  show  the  cause  of  every  action,  and  there  is, 
therefore,  ever  a  reason  to  be  given  on  which  we 
may  rest.  For  nothing  is  more  disagreeable  to  me 
than  a  mere  wild  interchange  of  .  ideas,  a  blind  and 
clumsy  intercourse.  It  is  not,  indeed,  possible,  to 
found  every  action  in  truth,  to  take  none  but  the 
wisest  resolutions ;  but  we  can  approach  to  this  per- 
fection, and  it  is  healthful  both  for  body  and  mind 
to  remain  constant  to  some  rule  in  even  unimportant 
matters,  to  resist  the  guidance  of  every  change  of 
whim,  and,  be  the  consequences  what  they  may,  to 
adhere  firmly  to  our  resolutions.  It  is  by  no  means 
true  that  such  a  strictness  hinders  the  outpourings 
of  the  spirit,  and  sets  narrow  bounds  to  the  feelings. 
The  soul  moves  with  increased  confidence  in  a  de- 
termined direction,  when  it  finds  that  it  is  subject  to 
a  strict  and  careful  guidance  ;  and  the  feelings  gain 
greater  strength  when  they  proceed  from  purified  and 
well-tried  sentiments. 

Although  I  have  not  time  at  present  to  speak  fully 
respecting  the  part  of  your  biography  which  you  last 
sent  me,  allow  me  to  assure  you  of  the  pleasure  which 
it  gave  me,  and  to  entreat  you  to  send  me  the  contin- 
uation at  your  earliest  convenience.  I  expect  a  letter 
from  you  in  a  few  days,  and  pray  you  to  dispatch 
it  on  the  26th  of  the  month.    And  now,  farewell, 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


159 


dear  Charlotte  !  Be  convinced  that  you  ever  possess 
my  heartfelt  sympathy.  Your  health  seems  to  have 
been  improved  by  the  mild  winter  which  we  have 
had;  but  we  should  always  remember  that  as  we 
grow  older,  we  shall  be  more  subject  to  the  seasons. 
With  unchanged  affection,  I  remain  yours,  H. 


LETTER  XLI. 

Berlin,  March  8,  1825. 

Dear  Charlotte, 

I have  been  more  pleased  with  your  description  of 
your  domestic  life  in  the  year  1186,  than  I  can 
express.  This  portion  of  your  youth  passed  on  with- 
out any  occurrences  of  importance,  but  your  power 
of  delineating  the  inner  life  of  the  soul  has  given  to 
your  narration  of  it  a  wonderful  charm.  There  are 
states  of  feeling  which  circumstances  make  interest- 
ing, whether  they  precede,  accompany,  or  arise  out 
of  them.  Nothing  can  be  more  charming  than  that 
season  of  blooming  girlhood  in  which  you  must  have 
been  at  this  time.  I  was  at  that  time  nineteen  years 
old,  and  had  not  left  my  mother's  roof,  (my  father 
died  of  an  accident  in  my  twelfth  year,)  and  you 


160 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


must,  therefore,  be  about  four  years  younger  than  I 
am.  This  reminds  me  that  I  do  not  know  your 
exact  age,  which  I  request  you  to  tell  me,  for  I  con- 
sider it  of  great  importance  to  know  the  ages  of  my 
friends,  especially  of  such  as  are  females.  I  have  my 
own  thoughts  on  women's  ages,  and  prefer  those 
somewhat  advanced  in  years  to  those  who  are 
younger.  In  my  opinion,  their  personal  charms 
continue  to  unfold  to  a  much  later  period  than  is 
generally  supposed,  and  that  their  minds  are  much 
improved  by  years,  is  manifest.  I  have  never  cared 
to  form  any  intimate  friendship  with  a  girl  or  woman 
much  younger  than  myself,  and  certainly  would  not 
willingly  have  married  such  a  one,  for  I  am  convinced 
that  such  marriages  are  not  good.  It  generally  hap- 
pens in  such  cases  that  the  men  treat  their  wives  as 
children,  and  that  the  difference  of  their  ages  destroys 
that  exalted  intercourse,  that  pure  and  perfect  union 
of  thoughts  and  feelings,  which  is  the  chief  blessing 
.  resulting  from  the  union  of  the  two  sexes.  Similarity 
in  all  the  conditions  of  their  souls  is  indispensably 
necessary,  and  a  man  can  only  find  great  joy  in  mar- 
riage when  his  wife  agrees,  according  to  the  different 
nature  of  her  soul,  with  all  his  thoughts  and  feelings, 
and  acknowledges  his  will  as  her  own. 

To  return  to  the  subject  of  your  biography.  It 


H  ( m  B  0  L  D  T  ■  S  L  E  7  T  E  R  S. 


161 


was  a  peculiar,  though  in  the  then  undeveloped 
but  developing  state  of  your  heart,  a  natural  and 
amiable  trait  of  your  disposition,  that  you  had  no 
longing  but  for  a  friend  of  your  own  sex.  It  is  very 
right  to  distinguish  between  love  and  friendship. 
They  share  in  common  that  inner  life  of  the  soul, 
wherein  two  beings  having  met,  each  one  seems  to 
yield  up  his  own  peculiar  existence  to  that  of  the 
other,  and  yet  preserves  it  in  a  state  of  greater 
clearness  and  purity  by  the  contact.  A  man  needs 
something  without  himself,  to  which  he  may  attach 
himself ;  about  which  he  may  rally  all  the  powers 
of  his  being.  And  general  as  this  feeling  is,  it  is  the 
peculiar  prerogative  of  a  tender  contemplative  soul 
to  long  for  true  love  and  friendship.  Very  few  ten- 
der, unworldly,  and  world-fearing  dispositions  can 
attach  themselves  to  those  which  are  active  and  vola- 
tile :  such  opposite  dispositions  can  never  be  truly 
united.  Love  and  friendship  are  altogether  different 
in  themselves,  and  different  in  all  their  circum- 
stances. Love  has  a  sensual  hue,  which  is  no  pre- 
judice to  the  purity  of  the  soul,  for  it  can  possess  the 
greatest  purity  within  itself,  and  proceeding  from  the 
soul  itself,  is  as  clear  and  unspotted.  With  young 
women  who  have  not  as  yet  become  sensible,  or  at 
least  conscious,  of  love,  it  takes  the  form  of  friendship. 


162 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


Their  feelings  are  not  sufficiently  decided  and  clear 
to  understand  that  love  which  their  blooming  woman- 
hood scatters  all  around.  The  friendship  of  one 
young  person  for  another  of  the  same  sex,  is  the 
more  lively,  long-suffering,  patient,  and  self-sacri- 
ficing:  although  it  leads  to  the  same  results  in  later 
years,  it  has  a  different  character  in  the  earlier 
period  of  life,  when  the  tinge  of  sentiment  is  more 
glowing,  the  soul  capable  of  stronger  exertion,  and 
when  the  light  appears  warmer  and  brighter.  Thus 
w^as  it,  surely,  between  you  and  your  friend.  I 
wish  very  much  that  you  may  continue  your  auto- 
biography. I  cannot  see  that  you  encounter  as  yet 
any  difficulty ;  for  the  more  serious  periods,  the 
times  of  sorrow  and  grievous  trial,  are  far  distant 
from  the  present  period  of  your  narrative  ;  and  when 
you  reach  them,  you  may  be  quite  convinced,  dear 
Charlotte,  that  I  shall  leave  it  entirely  to  the  deter- 
mination of  your  own  feelings  whether  or  not  you 
will  proceed.  For  it  entirely  rests  with  you  to 
decide  whether  you  can  bear  to  consider  the  occasions 
and  results  of  wounds,  which,  however  old  they  be, 
must  still  be  very  painful.  Ever  remember  that  in 
sparing  yourself  unnecessary  pain  you  spare  me.  I 
fear  that  you  work  too  hard  ;  for  my  sake  avoid  this. 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


163 


And  now,  dear  Charlotte,  farewell !  Think  some- 
times of  me,  who  think  so  frequently  and  affection- 
ately of  you.  H. 


LETTER  XLII. 

Berlin,  March  22,  1825. 

Dear  Charlotte, 

It  is  with  great  pleasure  that  I  sit  down  to  write  to 
you  this  letter,  which  I  hope,  from  all  my  heart, 
you  may  receive  in  good  and  cheerful  health ; 
though,  indeed,  this  strange  weather,  which  winter 
has  reserved  for  its  conclusion,  is  not  very  likely  to 
bring  it.  I  have  been,  thank  God,  perfectly  well 
up  to  this  time,  and  purpose,  if  not  at  Easter,  at 
least  immediately  after,  making  an  excursion  to  Te- 
gel. Although  we  must  wait  the  whole  year  through 
for  the  budding  of  the  trees,  yet  the  expectation 
is  sweet,  as  all  things  which  are  not  wrong,  because 
the  end  of  its  hope  is  the  source  of  a  remaining  good. 
All  the  joys  brought  by  the  changing  seasons  have 
a  moral  for  the  feeling  and  the  grateful  heart.  That 
regularity  which  Nature  shows  in  all  her  works,  in 
her  most  usual  labors,  as  in  the  daily  rising  and 
setting  of  the  sun,  is  great  and  wonderful; — that 
11 


164 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


regularity,  1  say,  with  which  Nature  communicates 
the  benefits  which  she  showers  down  upon  mankind, 
must  fill  the  mind  of  every  thinking  man  with  an 
exalting  and  comforting  sentiment  of  tenderness.  In 
our  rude  north,  indeed,  we  must  purchase  the  step 
from  winter  to  spring  with  violent  weather,  and 
await  in  hope  the  approach  of  finer  days.  But  the 
great  change  which  accompanies  the  variation  of  the 
seasons  in  our  country,  has  its  advantages  ;  for  it 
renders  our  spirits  more  earnest  and  thoughtful  when 
we  pass  from  the  darkness  of  winter  into  the  mild 
serenity  of  spring-tide.  And  we  feel  this  the  more 
strongly,  after  passing  a  few  years  in  a  southern 
clime,  where  the  winter  is  our  spring,  and  there  are 
properly  but  three  seasons,  that  of  great  heat  or  the 
summer ;  and  that  of  the  ripening  of  fruits,  or  the 
autumn ;  and  the  remaining  months  of  the  year,  like 
as  I  have  said,  our  spring,  when  there  is  no  cold  or 
unpleasant  weather,  when  the  grass  of  the  fields  and 
meadows  is  fresh  and  green,  and  but  few  trees  are 
without  their  foliage.  In  such  countries,  then,  where 
there  is  no  change  from  winter  to  spring,  the  inhabit- 
ants are  without  those  sweet  and  heavenly  emotions 
which  this  change  never  fails  to  excite  in  our  hearts. 
It  is  in  nature  only,  however,  that  I  pay  any  atten- 
tion to  the  variations  of  the  seasons ;  unlike  most 


HUMBOLD T  'S  LETTERS. 


165 


men,  who  alter  their  mode  of  living  with  the  altera- 
tion of  the  year.  I  live,  a  change  of  residence  ex- 
cepted, in  the  same  manner  all  the  year  round,  which 
is  the  natural  consequence  of  my  going  out  but  very 
little  in  winter,  and  continuing  my  studies  almost 
uninterruptedly ;  for,  with  the  exception  of  the  hours 
from  three  to  five,  and  from  eight  to  ten,  you  would 
always  find  me,  dear  Charlotte,  busily  writing  in 
my  study,  as  the  few  visits  which  I  make  generally 
take  place  in  the  above  hours.  The  farther  a  man 
advances  in  years  the  more  he  delights,  if  his  soul 
has  ever  been  capable  of  such  a  delight,  in  earnest 
contemplation,  which,  I  may  say  without  exaggera- 
tion, is  now  almost  the  only  charm  of  my  life, — a 
charm  which  is  increased  by  the  nature  of  my  pur- 
suits, and  which  a  thought,  the  suggestion  of  a 
thought,  or  even  the  feeling  of  a  thought  ever 
renews.  By  this  inclination  of  his  mind  a  man 
becomes  less  attractive  to  others,  more  bound  up  in 
himself :  and  in  this  view  I  am  far  from  unreservedly 
praising  it ;  he  rejects  certain  things,  has  an  especial 
inclination  and  necessity  for  making  his  own  views 
dominant,  and  easily  retreats  within  himself,  some- 
times when  not  wishing  to  do  so,  if  his  opinions  be 
not  received  :  he  feels,  in  fact,  that  he  can  only  pro- 
ceed on  a  certain  track,  and  therefore  desires  that 


166 


H  UMB  OLDT'S  LET  TER  S. 


those  who  would  accompany  him,  should  take  pre- 
cisely the  same  course.  All  this  may  have  its 
inconveniences,  but  whatever  is  human  must  have 
them,  and  that  contemplative  life,  which  determines 
its  own  circle,  and  never  goes  beyond  that  circle, 
has,  and  preserves  its  compensation,  in  the  very  fact 
that  it  cannot  be  separated  from  it.  Yes,  if  he  indeed 
reaches  the  state  with  which  a  well-cultivated  and 
profound  mind  may  properly  be  contented,  a  man 
ought  surely  out  of  a  principle  of  duty  not  to  forsake 
it.  For,  from  this  pursuit  of  ideas,  commenced  accord- 
ing to  our  own  resolves  and  peculiar  choice,  there 
always  arises  somewhat  which  works  far  and  power- 
fully, and  unless  a  man  be  independent  in  himself, 
a  free  application  of  his  active  powers  is  impossible. 
You  will  find,  dear  Charlotte,  from  my  letter  of  the 
8th,  with  what  joy  and  interest  I  read  the  new 
chapter  of  your  biography,  which  very  frequently 
occupies  my  thoughts.  The  comparatively  few  forced 
marriages  in  our  days  prove,  I  think,  that  the  world 
has  increased  in  gentleness  and  justice.  Happiness 
is  now  thought  more  of  than  outward  form  and  cir- 
cumstance. And  although  by  this  means  fallacious 
and  deceptive  inclinations  may  sometimes  be  acted 
on,  yet  on  the  whole  this  exercise  of  mildness  and 
justice,  this  thought  for  those  for  whom  the  choice 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


167 


is  made,  is  an  important  advance  on  former  ages. 
But  the  worst  which  can  happen  in  such  cases  is 
when,  as  in  the  case  of  your  friend,  one  connection 
is  entered  on  and  another  not  renounced.  For 
although  it  be  done  with  the  purest  feeling  of  self- 
sacrifice,  and  entirely  on  moral  grounds,  it  is  yet  an 
unnatural  effort  of  the  mind,  and  a  proceeding  which 
can  scarcely  hope  for  that  blessing,  without  which 
nothing  prospers.  You  do  not  err  in  supposing  that 
no  such  happiness  as  is  hoped  for  has  proceeded  from 
such  a  second  union.  The  first  fascination  of  love, 
when  the  desired  union  takes  place,  does  not  vanish 
madly,  but  happily  weaves  itself  into  all  feelings, 
and  yet  is  blunted  by  time.  The  distance  forms 
images  which  are  never  to  be  realized. 

That  inner  repose  is  wanting,  without  which  there 
can  be  no  happiness. 

Thus  much  for  to-day,  dear  Charlotte,  for  I  shall 
soon  write  again.  With  the  most  affectionate  sym- 
pathy, I  remain  yours,  H. 


168 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


LETTER  XLIII. 

Berlin,  April  6,  1825. 

Dear  Charlotte, 

It  was  with  very  great  pleasure  that  I  received 
your  copious  letter  of  the  20th,  for  which  I  re- 
turn you  my  hearty  thanks.  I  arrived  here  on 
Thursday,  the  24th,  and  found,  as  I  had  hoped,  a 
letter  from  you  on  the  table.  I  gratefully  acknow- 
ledge your  punctuality  and  attention  to  my  wishes. 
It  is  very  agreeable  to  me  to  think  that  the  time 
when  it  was  necessary  for  you  to  make  excessive 
exertions  is  past,  for  though  your  income  was  in- 
creased I  was  very  sorry,  although  I  honored  you 
for  it,  to  see  how  greatly  you  overtasked  your 
strength.  I  should  like  to  receive  in  your  next 
letter  a  full  account  of  your  receipts  and  disburse- 
ments ;  I  wish,  for  I  take  a  lively  and  affectionate 
interest  in  this  matter,  to  know,  and  to  know  par- 
ticularly, how  matters  go  with  you  in  this  respect, 
how  secure  your  position  may  be ;  and  I  should  be 
exceedingly  rejoiced  if  I  could  make  any  suggestion 
which  would  point  out  to  you  any  means  of  gaining 
greater  leisure ;  such  as  would  be  suitable  to  your 
character.    This  may  happen  in  the  course  of  time  ; 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


169 


and  so  agreeable  is  labor,  and  so  pleasant  and  bene- 
ficial also  is  leisure,  and  especially  for  you  who  so 
willingly  exist  in  thought  and  feeling,  and,  (through 
sensible  and  earnest  views  of  nature,  by  an  unusual 
power  of  realization,  and  by  your  original  destina- 
tion,) can  so  thoroughly  avail  yourself  of  leisure, — 
a  power  commonly  to  be  found  in  women  in  the 
highest  degree,  but  never  so  entirely  in  men.  I 
have  spoken  to  you  without  any  circumlocution, 
with  that  unreserve  which  you  permit,  and  even 
demand.  I  am  conscious  of  feeling  for  you  the  most 
hearty  sympathy  and  affection,  and  know  that  what 
I  do  is  done  with  right  intentions.  If  you  have 
other  views,  that  does  not  surprise  me,  because 
different  positions  naturally  present  different  pros- 
pects. It  rather  increases  iny  thankfulness,  my  re- 
gard, my  innermost  esteem  for  you,  that,  as  is 
always  the  case  with  a  woman  of  fine  and  noble 
sentiment,  you  are  ready  to  submit  your  views  to 
the  direction  of  him  whom  you  earnestly  esteem.  I 
am,  therefore,  exceedingly  pleased  that  you  follow 
my  wishes  in  this  respect,  and  expressly  say  that 
you  obey  me ;  *  and  I  will  repeat,  without  any 
attempt  at  concealment,  for  I  always  express  myself 


*  It  was  not  very  difficult  for  me  to  yield  to  this  fancy  of 
an  honored  friend. — Note  of  the  Editor. 


no 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


to  you  unreservedly,  that,  incomprehensible  as  it 
may  be  to  you,  not  only  the  fact  but  the  very  word, 
and  all  its  attendant  circumstances,  delight  me  ex- 
ceedingly ;  and  that,  not  merely  the  submission  of 
will  and  obedience,  but  also  the  willing  expression 
of  these  sentiments,  exhibits  to  me  a  woman's  char- 
acter in  its  fairest,  noblest  light,  affording,  as  it  does, 
certain  evidence  that  she  possesses  sufficient  confi- 
dence in  her  worth  not  to  fear  the  loss  of  any  of  her 
dignity  by  such  a  subjection.  You  wish  to  know 
where  I  passed  the  year  1786,  and  the  following 
years.  I  lived  in  Berlin  with  my  mother  in  the 
winter,  and  with  my  younger  brother,  under  the 
care  of  a  tutor,  in  the  summer,  when  it  was  our 
custom  to  visit  Tegel  on  Sunday.  This  was  my  life 
until  the  August  of  1788,  when  I  went  with  my 
brother  and  the  same  tutor  to  Frankfort  on  the 
Oder,  where  there  was  then  a  university,  at  which 
place  we  stayed  until  the  Easter  of  1789.  At  that 
time  I  went  with  my  tutor,  but  without  my  brother, 
to  Göttingen,  where  our  tutor  left  us,  and  from  that 
period,  my  22d  year,  I  lived  alone.  In  the  same 
year,  a  time  which  I  love  to  remember,  I  saw  you 
in  Pyrmont.  The  companion  whom  I  brought  with 
me  was  connected  with  me  by  no  ties  but  those  of 
chance. 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


1U 


At  Easter  my  brother  followed  me  to  Göttingen, 
and  soon  after  midsummer  I  went  to  Paris  with  the 
now  deceased  Campe,  who  had  been  my  first  tutor, 
and  had  taught  me  reading  and  writing  when  I  was 
three  years  old ;  we  separated  at  Mayence,  and  I 
went  on  to  Switzerland,  returned  to  my  mother  at 
the  close  of  the  year,  took  leave  of  her  again  in 
IT 91,  and  married.  Thus  passed  those  years  with 
me,  whose  dealings  with  you  you  have  so  kindly 
promised  to  relate. 

I  long  since  resolved  to  say  a  word  to  you  why 
painting  is  especially  suitable  to  your  disposition. 
The  reason  is,  that  you  possess  a  most  singularly 
beautiful  female  character.  Unless  we  possess  a 
soul  rich  in  feelings  and  ideas,  and  therefore  of  an 
exquisite  and  tender  organization,  we  cannot  per- 
ceive that  accord  from  other  souls  which  sweeps 
around  us,  whilst  with  such  a  soul  we  may  discover 
and  develope  the  least  perceptible  tones.  This  is  a 
privilege,  a  talent,  a  natural  gift,  but  is  perfected  by 
early  exertions,  by  self-conquest,  by  hatred  of  every- 
thing ignoble,  by  pure  morality,  and  simple  but 
earnest  piety.  In  this  respect  you  are  especially 
profound,  and  unite  to  the  spiritual  nature  of  your 
soul  a  high  talent  for  writing  and  description.  Thus 
I  explain  to  myself  the  facts  which  are  manifest 


172 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


throughout  all  your  letters,  and  every  portion  of 
your  autobiography. 


I  have  been  at  this  place  for  some  few  days  alone, 
having  left  my  family  during  this  violent,  stormy 
weather,  in  town.  The  storms  and  rain  are,  indeed, 
remarkably  heavy,  but  I  am  very  happy,  and  shall 
be  more  so  when  I  have  my  wife  and  children  with 
me  again..  In  spite  of  the  badness  of  the  weather 
I  walked  out  both  yesterday  and  to-day,  and  find 
that  one  suffers  less  from  the  storms  in  the  woods, 
about  sunset,  for  they  generally  subside  about  this 
time,  and  the  rain  is  checked  more  easily  by  the 
tops  of  the  trees.  Enough  for  to-day.  Farewell! 
With  unchangeable  sympathy  and  affection,  yours, 


strong  proofs  of  that  affection  which  I  prize  so 
much ;  and  will  answer  it  sentence  by  sentence. 


Tegel,  14. 


H. 


LETTER  XLIV. 


1 


I 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS.  173 

You  are  right  in  telling  me  that  we  did  not  meet  in 
Pyrmont  in  1789,  —  it  was  a  year  earlier,  for  I  went 
to  Göttingen  the  Easter  of  the  same  year.  I  had 
no  idea  that  you  were  betrothed  the  same  year,  but 
thought  that  it  had  been  much  later.  With  respect 
to  Campe,  however,  I  am  not  in  error.  He  was 
tutor,  or  rather  governor,  to  an  elder  step-brother  of 
mine,  my  mother's  son  by  her  first  marriage.  He 
also  taught  me  reading  and  writing,  and  must  have 
left  our  house  about  1770  or  1771,  near  the  time  of 
your  birth.  No  doubt  you  were  very  fond  of  the 
little  books  he  wrote  for  children.  After  he  left  us, 
he  became  a  pastor,  but  soon  left  his  curacy,  and 
entered  with  Basedow  the  Philanthropic  Institution 
at  Dessau.  But  his  journey  to  Paris,  in  which  I 
accompanied  him,  was  in  the  year  1789,  after  that 
we  had  seen  each  other.  Since  that  time  I  never 
met  with  him  again.  I  am  reminded  of  this  year 
by  another  circumstance,  which  is,  that  in  Jacobi's 
published  correspondence  there  is  a  letter  from  him 
to  Lavater,  .to  whom  he  recommended  me  in  1789, 
in  which  year  also  I  made  a  tour  in  Switzerland.  It 
is  a  great  pleasure  to  me  to  live  the  past  over  again. 
I  have  scarcely  forgotten  the  least  thing  which  ever 
befell  me,  and  especially  cherish  the  remembrance  of 
those  persons  with  whom  circumstances  have  con- 


If 4  HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 

nected  me.  At  the  time  of  which  I  speak,  I  had  a 
kind  of  passion  for  becoming  acquainted  with  re- 
markable men,  for  inquiring  narrowly  into  the  dis- 
positions of  their  minds,  for  treasuring  up  the  results 
of  these  observations.  By  this  means  I  acquired  a 
knowledge  of  human  nature,  which  ordinary  ex- 
perience would  not  have  given  even  at  a  much  later 
age.  All  my  endeavors  were  directed  to  the  acqui- 
sition of  this  knowledge.  I  brought  the  particu- 
larities of  the  objects  of  my  study  under  general 
divisions,  classed  them,  compared  them,  studied  their 
physiognomy,  and,  in  short,  made  of  it,  as  it  were, 
a  regular  science,  which  I  found  of  great  use  in  my 
life  in  the  world.  I  have  learned  to  view  men  as 
they  are ;  to  attribute  to  all  men  their  real  disposi- 
tions ;  and  that,  I  repeat,  which  in  my  youth  was  a 
simple  exercise,  in  my  age  I  have  found  a  support. 
I  no  longer  follow  this  pursuit,  for  when  a  man  has 
reached  my  years,  he  neither  can  nor  wishes  to 
make  these  nice  observations  and  distinctions.  A 
man  must  then  freely  exhibit  his  own  individuality, 
must  exercise  it  openly  in  the  case  of  those  with 
whom  he  is  intimately  associated,  and  be  contented 
to  show  to  others  an  ordinary  civility. 

You  express  your  surprise  at  the  rapid  approach 
of  spring  this  year ;  and  I  share  it  with  you,  for  I 


HUMBOL D  T  '8  LETTERS. 


175 


have  never  in  my  whole  life  experienced  so  sudden 
a  change  of  season.  A  large  old  cherry-tree  in  my 
garden,  which  in  the  evening  was  quite  bare,  was 
covered  the  next  morning  with  leaves. 

Your  sorrowful  emotions  at  this,  the  period  of 
Nature's  resurrection,  are  common  to  all  who  think 
carefully  and  deeply,  without  by  any  means  injuring 
the  pleasure  with  which  they  greet  her  on  arising 
from  her  long  sleep.  The  sadness  of  these  emotions 
is  the  result  of  their  earnestness,  for  all  the  earnest 
emotions  of  humanity  are  sad.  And  very  naturally ; 
for  it  feels  its  weakness,  the  subjection  of  its  being 
to  continual  change ;  and  cannot  but  feel  deep  emo- 
tions, which  must  express  themselves  in  a  sorrowful 
joy,  when  it  beholds  in  this  development  and  ex- 
ertion of  Nature  for  its  gratification,  an  eternal  good- 
ness continually  surrounding  and  watching  over  the 
care-beset  and  danger-beset  course  of  its  existence. 

Another  and  far  keener  kind  of  sorrow  enters  our 
souls  at  the  birth  of  so  much  life,  which,  if  it  be 
not  human,  is  still  no  less  life,  for  the  thought 
arises,  that  winter  will  soon  be  upon  them,  and  that 
they  must  quickly  die.  The  instability  of  all  life  is 
never  so  manifest  to  our  minds  as  at  the  change  of 
the  seasons.  The  sight  of- the  joyous  life  of  the 
world  of  leaves  and  flowers,  so  free  from  any  trace 


176 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


of  winter,  is  as  deeply  moving  as  the  sight  of  a 
child,  who  knows  not  care, — whom  care  knows  not. 

Farewell !  With  most  sincere,  most  unchangeable 
affection,  believe  me  yours,  H. 


LETTER  XLV. 

Tegel,  May  15,  1825. 

Dear  Charlotte, 

Much  as  I  love  Nature,  and  hold  communion  with 
her,  I  have  been  but  little  in  the  open  air 
since  my  residence  here.  If  no  one  pays  me  a  visit, 
which  in  this  cold  weather  is  seldom  the  case,  I 
usually  go  out  of  doors  from  six  to  eight  in  the 
evening,  which  I  prefer  to  the  morning  on  account 
of  the  sunset,  which  I  never,  if  possible,  miss  see- 
ing. I  have  always  liked  sunset  better  than  sun- 
rise ;  the  cause  of  which  is,  most  probably,  that  at 
evening  one's  daily  labors  being  ended,  the  mind  at 
ease  is  more  readily  impressed  with  the  beauties  of 
nature.  I  work  all  day  long  in  my  library,  which 
on  the  south  and  west  sides  looks  over  the  garden 
to  the  tall  trees  beyond.  My  self-chosen  studies 
have  become,  as  it  were,  (for  my  real  labors  occupy 


HUM  Ii  OL  DT  'S  LETTERS. 


177 


but  little  of  my  time,)  a  part  of  my  very  existence. 
My  books,  ideas,  contemplations,  and  the  experiences 
from  which  they  spring,  occupy  me  continually  and 
exclusively,  and  I  can  safely  say  that  I  owe  to 
them,  if  not  entirely,  certainly  for  the  most  part, 
this  happy  and  serene  being.  The  only  reason  for 
which  I  prize  my  position  is  that  I  can  give  myself 
up  to  them.  But  even  when,  as  was  the  case 
during  the  long  years  of  my  public  life,  I  had  not 
the  leisure  which  I  now  enjoy,  I  did  not  feel  the 
less,  that  I  derived  the  evenness  and  placidity  of 
my  disposition,  which  is  naturally  the  source  of 
gentleness  to  our  fellow-creatures,  from  this  tend- 
ency of  my  mind  to  alienate  itself  from  the  littleness 
of  the  world.  For  when  a  pure  and  conscious  soul 
is  compelled  by  circumstances  to  come  into  contact 
with  others,  its  ideas  remain  as  the  ravine  through 
which  a  river  flows,  and  preserves  its  tranquil  purity. 
This  is  ever  the  disposition  of  pious  men,  and  when 
it  is  free  from  all  hypocrisy  and  self-deception,  and 
founded  in  truth  and  humility,  is  a  disposition  which 
leads  to  unequalled,  to  perfect  repose.  If  a  man 
once  accustoms  himself  to  this  life  in  his  own 
thoughts,  he  is  proof  against  the  stings  of  sorrow 
and  misfortune.  If  he  be  sorrowful,  his  sorrow  will 
be  obedient  to  the  voice  of  patience  and  of  reason. 


178 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


I  connect,  according  to  a  long  formed  habit,  this 
reflection  with  my  learned  occupations,  but  I  con- 
tinually seek  in  that,  and  in  everything,  to  acquire 
fresh  ideas,  which  may  in  their  turn  unite  them- 
selves with  all  which  derives  its  worth  and  charm, 
either  from  that  which  is  not  visible,  or  which,  being 
actual,  is  so  in  the  purest  and  most  scientific  sense. 
In  this  higher  region  are  the  ideas  which,  as  also 
learned  pursuits,  appearing  only  fitted  for  the  few, 
are  very  simple  and  connected  with  general  humanity. 
I  am  pleased  with  the  thought  that  you  will  receive 
this  letter  at  Whitsuntide.  With  unchangeable 
affection, 

Yours,  H. 


LETTER  XLVI. 

Berlin,  May  21,  1825. 

Dear  Charlotte, 

The  marriage  of  the  Princess  Louisa  has  compelled 
me  to  spend  some  days  in  town,  but  as  I  am 
so  fond  of  the  country  I  shall  leave  Berlin  almost 
immediately,  and  shall,  therefore,  be  able  to  send 
you  but  a  very  short  letter  to-day.  I  was  glad  to 
find  my  expectation  that  I  should  receive  a  letter 


H UMBOL  DT'S  L  ETTERS. 


179 


from  you  to-day,  gratified  by  yours  of  the  15th.  My 
grief  that  you  have  been,  and  perhaps  still  are  suffer- 
ing from  low  spirits,  is  accompanied  with  joy  that 
you  write  to  me  so  frankly. 

Whitsuntide,  above  all  other  festivals,  fills  the  soul 
with  joy,  exalts  it,  turns  it  away  from  the  contempla- 
tion of  the  little  concerns  of  the  world  to  higher  and 
better  hopes,  and  confirms  it  in  worthy  resolutions. 
Festivals,  by  their  origin,  and  by  the  circumstances 
to  the  commemoration  of  which  they  are  consecrated, 
ever  give  an  increase  of  devotion  to  earnest  activity 
and  worthy  efforts.  But  religious  considerations 
apart,  they  are  pleasant  divisions  in  the  year,  whose 
long  uniformity  would  otherwise  be  wearisome. 
Life  appears  longer  when  it  is  divided  into  small 
portions,  and  this  is  not  merely  a  deception  of  the 
imagination.  But  were  it  indeed  only  that,  we  ought 
not  to  prize  it  the  less.  Simple  reality  would  be  very 
mean  without  the  charm  of  imagination,  which,  allow- 
ing that  it  brings  in  its  train  unreal  terrors  as  well 
as  vain  hopes,  generally,  although  in  this  it  may  be 
very  deceptive,  lends  to  the  objects  which  it  presents 
before  the  mind  bright  and  cheerful  colors.  It  gene- 
rally, also,  depends  on  ourselves  to  allow  or  reject  its 
influence  ;  but  not  entirely.    In  earnest  dispositions 

it  is  the  chief  feeling  on  which  all  others  more  or  less 
12 


180 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


depend.  If  this  be  light  and  cheerful,  it  gives  such 
a  tone  to  the  whole  mind ;  if  clouded  with  cares,  it, 
in  like  manner,  renders  the  soul  heavy  and  melan- 
choly. 

The  question  which  you  put,  "  how  far  our  love  for 
another  may  extend,  and  remain  pleasing  to  God," 
is  a  very  important  moral  question,  and  one  which 
you  have  answered  very  well,  but  you  have  still,  I 
think,  left  some  of  its  points  untouched.  In  the  first 
place  nothing  can  displease  God  which  is  done  with 
noble,  pure,  and  moral  feelings ;  and  this  must  cer- 
tainly be  your  opinion  likewise.  The  Godhead  has 
therein  the  moral  knowledge  and  especially  the  moral 
feeling,  which,  making  still  nicer  distinctions,  rejects 
that  which  mere  knowledge  would  not  disapprove. 
If  we  would  go  still  farther,  that  there  may  be  un- 
allowed things,  against  which  morality  says  nothing, 
there  would  appear  to  me  in  that  either  an  excess  or 
a  deficiency  in  fineness  of  moral  feeling.  I  hold  that 
nothing  is  displeasing  to  God  which  is  consistent 
with  pure  moral  feeling.  But  man  can  only  judge 
respecting  human  matters.  For  my  own  part  I 
cannot  conceive  that  a  man  need  fear  loving  any 
created  being  more  than  God.  God  will  be  loved 
by  us  in  his  creatures  according  as  we  feel  and  act 
towards  them.    An  idolatrous  love  is  an  expression 


H  UM  Ii  OLD  T  'S  LE  T  TUBS. 


181 


which  answers  to  no  actual  idea.  No  sensible  man 
can  compare  in  any  way  the  highest  being  with  one 
of  his  own  weak  and  perishable  fellow-creatures. 
Such  a  comparison  could  only  result  from  the  most 
unbridled  passion,  a  passion  which  could  not  submit 
unscathed  to  the  test  of  free,  purified,  and  spotless 
feeling.  Everything  returns  to  this  point.  But  you 
must  understand  that  by  moral  feeling  I  mean  one 
which  is  thoroughly  imbued  with  the  most  sincere 
and  genuine  piety.  For  there  might  be  a  morality 
perfectly  distinct  from  religion.  And,  moreover,  I 
do  not  mean  any  obscure  feeling.  It  must  be  a 
feeling  founded  on  knowledge  and  piety,  and  to 
distinguish  it  a  little  further,  we  may  observe  that, 
in  a  song,  music  which  is  felt  ever  adds  something 
to  the  dry  meaning  of  the  words.  An  affection 
favored  by  such  feelings  needs  not  anxiously  pre- 
scribe to  itself  limits.  To  whatsoever  degree  it  may 
reach,  it  still  remains  a  pure  and  pious  disposition 
which  will  never  confuse  the  Creator  with  the  crea- 
ture, and  will  never  prove  unfaithful  to  the  former. 
That  the  Deity  can  every  day  remove  the  object  of 
such  an  inclination  is  indeed  certain ;  and  if  the 
inclination  be  what  I  have  described  it,  such  a  cir- 
cumstance will  profoundly  afflict  him  who  is  inspired 
by  this  sentiment,  but  it  will  not  rob  him  of  his 


182 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


self-possession.  The  disposition  itself  could  not  be 
associated  with  a  moral  and  religious  feeling,  if  it  did 
not  imply  that,  in  untoward  circumstances,  it  would 
be  attended  with  a  humble  resignation  to  the  will 
of  Providence.    All  the  rest  seems  to  explain  itself. 

To  occupy  myself  with  the  past  has  ever  been  my 
favorite  pursuit.  That  which  in  times  gone  by  has 
influenced  the  soul,  and  has  been  really  considered 
and  felt  by  it,  has  a  great  influence  also  on  its  present 
thoughts,  feeMngs,  and  desires. 

The  intimate  connection  of  all  the  phases  of  a 
man's  life  is  one  of  the  most  incomprehensible  and 
wonderful  parts  of  his  nature.  It  cannot  for  a  mo- 
ment be  supposed  that  all  thoughts  and  feelings  will 
maintain  an  equal  place  in  the  soul ;  but  whilst  one 
affects  the  mind  in  a  more  especial  manner,  the  others 
sound  as  connected  chords.  In  this  manner,  then, 
may  all  the  past  circumstances  of  a  man's  life  be 
obvious  to  him  as  the  present,  and  all  his  former 
actions  have  a  much  closer  connection  than  is  com- 
monly supposed  with  his  present. 

With  that  which  springs  from  any  deep  sentiment 
no  particular  design  is  ever  connected ;  but  we  may 
be  described  as  fanatical  and  extravagant  by  cold 
and  tranquil  men,  because  our  feelings  pass  the  limits 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


183 


of  ordinary  experience ;  while  sentiment,  without 
losing  any  of  its  tenderness,  may  really  become 
stronger. 


thinking  that  you  would  rather  have  an  immediate 
answer  to  that ;  and  now  that  I  know  its  contents, 
I  am  doubly  pleased  that  I  took  this  resolution,  for 
I  have  little  doubt  that  I  shall  be  able  to  clear  up 
many  difficulties,  and  clearness  is  always  rest,  or  the 
source  of  rest.  Let  me  give  you  many  thanks  for 
your  letter  which  I  received  yesterday,  and  for  the 
expressions  of  love  and  confidence  which  it  contains, 
and  which  I  assure  you  I  value  as  they  deserve. 
You  may  be  convinced  that  although  very  far  from 
making  the  least  complaint  against  you  in  the  inmost 
recesses  of  my  heart,  I  thoroughly  understand  your 
disposition,  and  recognize  with  lively  thankfulness 
your  singularly  true  and  firm  affection.  You  may 
gather  from  my  letters,  that  I  enter  into  all  your 


LETTER  XLVII. 


i 


184 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


ideas,  am  anxious  to  solve  your  doubts,  and  to 
answer  your  questions ;  and  if  I  do  not  do  it  out  of 
gratitude,  but  out  of  real  inclination  and  interest, 
that  will  be  to  you  perhaps  a  better  proof  of  my 
thankfulness.  I  do  not  as  yet,  and  never  can  forget, 
that  you  have  preserved  through  a  long  life  your  first 
feelings  of  affection  in  my  behalf,  and  disclose  to  me 
unreservedly  your  innermost  feelings.  This,  as  I 
have  so  often  said,  is  a  treasure  which  few  men 
possess.  I  am  sorry  to  find  that  you  complain  of 
presentiments  and  low  spirits,  which,  as  you  rightly 
suppose,  have  no  effect  upon  me,  and  of  which  you 
must  strive  to  think  in  like  manner.  I  ascribe  this 
mournful  disposition,  w^hich  proceeds  in  part  from 
the  state  of  your  bodily  health,  to  your  excessive 
exertions  during  last  winter.  We  should  not  forget 
that  one  must  be  brought  up,  nay  even  born  to  them, 
to  endure  with  impunity  such  uninterrupted  exer- 
tions. And  we  well  know  that  neither  of  these 
cases  can  apply  to  you.  You  opposed  the  idea  of 
living  at  leisure ;  your  present  position  was  the  re- 
sult of  a  severe  destiny,  and  you  had  to  endure  it 
at  a  period  of  life  when  the  fresh  energies  of  youth 
had  departed.  Although  I  honor  exceedingly  your 
perseverance  and  resolution,  it  grieves  me  much  that 
it  is  so,  and  that  you  have  not  gained  a  total  change 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


185 


of  situation,  as  some  recompense  for  your  losses.  I 
cannot,  if  you  only  rightly  understand  me,  occasion 
your  low  spirits  ;  you  must  see  from  every  line  of 
my  letters,  that  you  have  my  hearty  sympathy  and 
good  wishes ;  that  I  do  not  wish  you  altered  in  any 
respect ;  that  it  greatly  delights  me  to  find  you  be- 
coming happier  and  more  cheerful ;  that  I  shall  ever 
have  great  pleasure  in  furthering,  as  far  as  my  circum- 
stances —  I  might  say  my  years — permit,  your  wel- 
fare ;  and  that  it  is  very  easy  for  me  to  disabuse  your 
mind  of  any  contrary  suspicion.  Never  doubt  this, 
I  beseech  you !  For  it  would  be  a  peculiarly  unhappy 
circumstance,  if  you  were  to  create  cares  for  your- 
self out  of  nothing,  to  grieve  for  imaginary  griefs. 
Nothing,  it  appears  to  me,  can  be  clearer  than  the 
character  of  our  recollections.  Your  own  feelings 
you  must  know  best  yourself;  but  for  myself  I  may 
say,  that  I  have  preserved  unto  this  time  the  feelings 
and  sentiments  which  were  excited  by  our  first  meet- 
ing, casual  and  temporary  as  it  was  ;  that  it  is  a  great 
joy  to  me  to  have  this  opportunity  of  expressing 
them,  and  that  I  find,  as  must  be  manifest  to  you, 
an  inexpressible  pleasure  in  this  our  mutual  inter- 
course of  mental  experience.  This  calm  and  beautiful 
friendship,  so  suitable  as  it  is  to  my  age  and  inclination, 
may  continue  as  long  as  our  lives  ;  there  is  no  reason 


186  HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 

on  my  side  why  it  should  not,  and.  as  far  as  I  can 
see,  none  on  yours.  Be  satisfied,  as  I  am  convinced 
you  safely  may  be,  that  the  connection  between  us 
must  ever  be  considered  as  earnest  and  ingenuous, 
as  it  really  is.  Besides  which,  you  must  never  for 
a  moment  suppose  that  the  obligation  is  wholly  on 
your  side  ;  for,  as  I  have  often  observed,  I  receive 
great  satisfaction  from  your  letters,  your  natural 
womanly  expressions  of  submission,  and  your  auto- 
biography. Believe  me :  you  can  give  me  especial 
satisfaction  by  this ;  and  you  have  seen  that  I  can 
express  myself  to  you  naturally  and  unreservedly. 
If  you  think  differently,  I  will  immediately  yield  the 
point,  and  that  without  any  bitterness,  any  complaint, 
with  the  simple  feeling,  as  I  have  before  said,  that 
two  people  cannot  think  altogether  alike.  Thus 
lightly  should  you  also,  dear  Charlotte,  treat  things 
which  may  not  be  quite  in  accordance  with  your 
wishes.  The  happiest  life  has  so  much  shade,  that 
we  should  take  care  not  to  render  our  existence 
darker  than  it  really  is.  Such  an  error  in  feeling 
is  not  wilful ;  but  yet  one  may  strive  against  it. 

This  needs  self-government,  but  that,  indeed,  is 
necessary  to  all  men.  I  have  now  been  so  explicit, 
ray  dear  friend,  that  I  cannot  in  any  way  appear  to 
you  mysterious  or  unintelligible.  I  must  correct  one 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


187 


passage  in  your  letter,  where  you  say  that  I  need 
nothing  for  my  happiness  but  myself,  and  which 
shows  that  you  have  quite  misunderstood  me.  It 
is,  indeed,  in  many  respects  true.  But  however 
severely  I  examine  myself,  I  cannot  find  anything 
to  blame  in  this.  It  is,  in  fact,  the  fruit  of  a  long 
life  directed  to  that  end.  I  live  in  my  feelings, 
studies,  and  ideas ;  it  is  by  them  that  I  am  enabled 
to  depend  but  little  on  outward  things ;  that  I  learn 
to  direct  my  thoughts  to  that  which  is  imperishable  ; 
that  I  bear  up  against  the  misfortunes  which  have 
so  frequently  attacked  me.  By  this  sort  of  inde- 
pendence alone  can  a  man  become  free  from  egotism, 
for,  by  having  few  wants  of  his  own,  he  can  find 
more  leisure  to  attend  to  those  of  others.  Every 
joy  is  greater  as  it  is  not  the  satisfaction  of  a  want, 
but  a  pure  and  beautiful  addition  to  his  being. 
Everything  which  we  need  has  the  peculiarity  of 
being  desired  with  more  pain  while  absent  than 
enjoyed  when  present.  I  feel  —  experience  has 
taught  me  this  —  more  sorrow  at  the  loss  of  a  friend 
than  is  usual  with  other  men,  but  bear  it  more 
calmly.  I  do  not  consider  sorrow  as  altogether 
opposed  to  happiness,  but  have  frequently  experi- 
enced the  one  when  in  company  with  the  other. 
This  was  my  meaning  by  that  which  you  misunder- 


188 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


stood,  and  if  you  will  carefully  peruse  my  letter, 
you  will  find  that  it  is  there  very  clearly  expressed. 
I  can  scarcely  believe  that  it  is  possible  to  avoid 
allowing  particular  passages  to  bear  a  different  mean- 
ing to  that  which  they  were  intended  to  convey ; 
one  cannot  define  everything.  If  you  say  that  the 
word  inconsequent  is  not  agreeable  to  your  ears, 
you  are  thinking,  doubtless,  of  an  often  misused 
word.  The  true  consequence  is  certainly  not  offensive 
to  you  ;  you  reverence  it  as  much  as  I  do.  It  is,  in 
fact,  but  the  pure  result  of  well-known  principles. 
Farewell !  Confide  in  the  unchangeableness  of  my 
affection ;  dismiss  from  your  thoughts  every  unreal 
care ;  bear  calmly  those  which  are  real.  Remember 
that  by  so  doing  you  please  me  very  much.  Heartily 
yours,  H. 


LETTER  XLVIII. 

Burgörner,  August  18,  1825. 

I have  been  at  this  place  for  some  days,  and  re- 
joice very  much  that  I  live  in  a  province,  and 
in  a  part  of  the  country  which  is  far  from  any  great 
towns.  For  I  much  prefer  such  places  to  all  others. 
I  have  no  curiosity  to  know  the  news,  and  do  very 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


189 


well  without  the  papers.  My  occupations  proceed 
in  a  perfectly  uniform  manner,  and  as  far  as  possible 
in  the  same  direction.  I  have  ever  been  inclined  to 
engage  deeply  in  one  pursuit,  and  have  frequently 
experienced  the  advantages  and  disadvantages  of 
such  a  course.  For  that  this  love  for  one  and  the 
same  occupation,  that  this  attachment  to  one  domi- 
nant idea  has  a  cramping  and  injurious  influence, 
cannot  be  denied.  Excessive  intensity  of  research 
has  the  same  influence  as  a  continual  distraction  of 
mind :  both  habits  prevent  us  from  observing  much, 
compel  us  to  let  much  slip  by  unexamined.  There 
is,  indeed,  a  grand  difference  between  them,  for 
whilst  the  frivolous  mind  gains  nothing,  the  deeply 
thinking  soul  possesses  the  one  object  of  its  research, 
frequently  a  sufficient  compensation  for  the  loss  of 
all  other  knowledge.  I  feel  this  inclination  to  sur- 
render myself  exclusively  to  one  thing,  which  is, 
then,  for  the  most  part,  a  single  idea,  in  the  highest 
degree,  when  I  am  alone  with  Nature.  I  love  her 
infinitely,  and  the  enjoyment  of  even  a  simple  scene 
in  the  open  country,  not  to  speak  of  that  which  is 
beautiful,  has  an  inexpressible  charm  for  me.  But 
the  impression  also  which  Nature  makes  always 
connects  itself  again  with  the  thoughts  which  are 
inwardly  occupying  me,  and  changes  itself  into  a 


190 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


general  sentiment:  on  the  contrary,  a  number  of 
individual  things  elude  my  grasp.  I  should  never 
have  been  a  good  observer  of  Nature,  but  should 
have  passed  without  observation  much  amongst 
plants  and  stones,  which  at  another  time  I  should 
have  cherished.  However,  I  should  not  willingly 
allow  this  my  inclination  to  deep  thought  to  de- 
crease, and  should  not  merely  be  unwilling  to  ex- 
change it  with  the  opposite  extreme,  but  should  also 
be  as  discontented  with  that  middle  path,  so  gener- 
ally considered  the  golden  mean.  A  man  learns, 
moreover,  to  know  those  things  the  best  to  which 
he  attaches  himself  so  exclusively,  and  the  longer 
we  consider  them  the  clearer  they  appear.  One 
cannot,  indeed,  say  that  the  things  of  the  world,  as 
far  as  we  now  see  them,  exhibit  their  real  nature. 
One  man  sees  that  which  another  overlooks ;  and  it 
is  as  if  the  eye,  when  sharpened  by  practice,  itself 
evolved  the  object.  The  simplest  things  can  occupy 
him  who  has  such  an  inclination  for  a  long  period, 
and  neither  vainly  nor  uselessly.  I  especially  find 
it  continually  to  be  the  case  in  this  persevering 
observation,  if  it  concern  not  merely  our  ideas,  but 
the  objects  of  the  world,  that  that  which  time  has 
wrought  in  them,  the  trace  of  the  past  in  the  pre- 
sent, nay  even  the  bare  anticipation  of  the  future 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


191 


which  is  opposed  to  the  present,  all  rise  to  view.  It 
is  in  this  that  its  greatest  charm  consists.  For 
everything  which  represents  the  course  and  unin- 
terrupted flight  of  time  is  inexpressibly  attractive  to 
humanity.  And  this  is  very  natural,  for  man  is 
himself  a  creature  of  time,  over  which  his  fate 
sweeps  him  as  over  a  restless  sea,  giving  him  no 
certainty  for  the  present,  or  confidence  in  the  future. 
But  strength  against  adverse  circumstances  is  the 
least  advantage  which  we  owe  to  this  earnest  spirit 
of  inquiry.  For  you  might  perhaps  reply,  that  there 
are  very  few  things  which  are  worthy  such  a  display 
of  power.  The  much  more  important  of  its  advan- 
tages is  that  good  which  the  spirit  gains  from  this 
direction  of  all  its  energies  to  one  point,  this  habit 
of  contentment  with  few  objects.  For  from  this 
disposition  must  necessarily  rise  a  greater  sense  of 
spiritual  existence,  a  warmth  of  feeling  and  love 
with  which  a  man  may  surround  himself,  and  feel, 
as  it  were,  alone  in  the  world.  An  influence  is 
thereby  exercised  upon  the  character  itself,  or  rather, 
since  nothing  comes  from  without,  this  tendency 
being  a  property  of  the  character  itself,  the  latter  is 
thus  developed  more  and  more,  and  yielding  to  the 
favorable  impression,  acquires  a  higher  dignity  and 
more  permanent  beauty. 


192 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


For  there  are  ideas  with  which  it  has  grown  up, 
which  it  will  never  resign,  which  accompany  it  as 
continual  guides,  friends,  comforters  ;  and  these  ideas 
are  so  peculiar  to  it,  that  another  mind  can  frequently 
never,  and  generally  not  until  after  many  years 
have  elapsed,  understand  and  comprehend  them,  the 
reason  of  which  is,  not  that  they  are  too  high  or  too 
perplexed,  as  is  commonly  supposed,  but  that  they 
are  so  inseparably  united  with  the  mind  of  another. 
In  ideas  of  this  kind  I  could  never  sacrifice  even 
the  very  least  without  a  perfect  change  of  my  early 
convictions.  Nothing  could  compensate  for  such  a 
renunciation,  and  whatever  the  sacrifice  made  to 
preserve  an  idea  thus  deepened  into  conviction,  it 
can  never  be  too  great.  The  firmness,  however, 
which  this  displays  is  no  vain  one  ;  it  proceeds  from 
no  mere  pride  of  understanding,  since,  although  it 
is  in  itself  the  offspring  of  the  intellect,  ardor,  senti- 
ment, and  love,  will  be  found  peculiarly  to  exist  in  a 
mind  which  is  thus  disposed.  The  whole  being  is 
rendered  more  earnest  by  this  disposition,  and,  as  I 
have  often  experienced,  remains  firmly  fixed,  in  spite 
of  all  external  commotions,  where  it  has  once  been 
really  naturalized.  It  renders  those  who  possess  it 
independent  of  all  outward  circumstances,  and  espe- 
cially diminishes  the  necessity  of  a  connection  with 


H UMB OLD T'S  LETTERS. 


193 


outward  objects.  For  the  love  excited  by  the  simple 
internal  idea  supplies  their  place.  But  wherever 
any  reality  is  united  with  an  idea,  the  effect  is 
doubly  lasting  and  effective.  The  ideas  which  ac- 
company life  throughout  are  naturally  those  which 
best  prepare  him  who  possesses  them  to  dispense 
with  life,  since  life  is  especially  valuable  only  through 
them.  They  are,  however,  firmly  associated  with 
the  profoundest  faculties  of  the  mind  and  of  the  soul. 
I  cannot  at  all  comprehend  how  the  peculiar  nature 
of  man  can  ever  do  without  them.  It  is  well  to 
hope,  and  to  expect  with  confidence,  that  they  will 
hereafter  surround  the  soul  in  a  clearer,  brighter, 
and  more  manifold  manner. 

I  have  been  rejoiced  to  find  from  your  letters  that 
you  have  become  calmer  and  happier,  and  are  will- 
ing to  acknowledge  that  I  am  anxious  that  you 
should  be  so.  I  have  certainly  only  experienced  for 
you  the  very  great  affection  which  I  now  do,  since 
we  renewed  our  correspondence,  but  you  may  be 
quite  sure  that  I  ever  remain  steadfast  in  my  friend- 
ships. The  principles  on  which  I  act  are  founded 
neither  on  caprice  nor  selfishness.  It  has  very  much 
delighted  me  to  find  in  you,  as  in  other  respects,  a 
full  and  firm  trust  in  those  feelings  which  are  conse- 
crated by  benevolent  sympathy.    Persevere,  dearest 


194 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


Charlotte,  unceasingly  in  this  course,  and  you  will 
never  find  anything  to  disturb  our  friendship. 

That  you  are  a  determined  enemy  to  whatever  is 
consequential,  when  it  is  nothing  but  self-will,  and 
is  only  the  semblance  of  a  nobler  reality,  is  well 
deserving  of  praise.  Such  pretensions  are  highly 
culpable.  But  we  must  not  always  consider  that  as 
pretence,  of  which  we  do  not  see  the  reason,  or  which 
rests  upon  grounds  which,  if  seen,  are  yet  not  expli- 
cable. That  would  be  to  fall  into  another  extreme. 
Still  less  ought  we  to  call  a  man  consequential 
because  he  perseveres  in  his  own  opinions,  which 
others  may  have  changed  and  no  longer  regard  as 
true.  It  would  be  nothing  but  stubbornness  or 
weakness  to  refuse  to  acknowledge  before  others  that 
we  were  formerly  wrong.  If  we  ourselves  feel  this, 
we  can  have  no  difficulty  in  allowing  the  same  to 
others.  I  have  not  the  least  sympathy  with  those 
who  think  that  we  ought  to  be  so  locked  up,  once 
for  all,  in  our  principles,  notions,  and  sentiments,  and 
who  suppose  that  they  must  all  necessarily  be  right 
because  we  have  held  them  so  long.  I  rather  prefer 
to  put  all  things  continually  again  to  the  proof,  and 
I  would  not  for  a  moment  conceal  it,  if  that  to 
which  I  had  formerly  most  inclined  appeared  sud- 
denly to  me  in  another  light.     I  should  then  not 


H (  MBOL D T 'S  LE TIER S. 


195 


only  lay  aside  my  former  opinion,  but  acknowledge 
that  I  had  done  so  without  any  hesitation.  But 
when  a  man  is  so  characterized,  it  is  scarcely  obvious 
among  others,  for  he  is  then  entirely  devoted  to 
meditation,  and  the  reasons  and  opinions  which  he 
holds  attach  themselves  to  that  reflection  which  a 
man  is  not  disposed  to  exchange  for  the  thoughts  of 
another,  however  strong  the  proofs  may  be  which 
the  latter  brings  to  justify  his  opinions.  You  say 
that  during  the  last  week  you  have  contemplated 
your  own  being  very  earnestly,  and  directed  your 
attention  to  the  very  depths  of  your  spirit.  You 
cannot  but  have  derived  great  benefit  from  the  inves- 
tigation. Such  self-inquiry  always  bestows  on  me 
a  feeling  of  repose,  not  lightly  to  be  disturbed.  One 
finds  either  that  the  condition  of  the  disposition  is 
such,  that  it  is  only  necessary  to  preserve  it  as  it 
is,  and  that  nothing  is  necessary  for  our  full  enjoy- 
ment but  more  light  and  clearness,  more  ability  to 
unfold  its  intricacies.  Such  certainly  is  the  case 
with  you.  Or  else  the  inquirer  finds  much  cause  for 
complaint,  for  discontent :  if  so,  he  straightway  pro- 
ceeds to  purify  his  mind  of  evil,  error  and  weakness, 
and  finds  a  real  enjoyment  in  the  feeling  that  he  is 
returning  to  the  right  way.  Farewell !  be  calm,  and 
ever  confident  of  my   unchanging,  unchangeable 

affection.  H. 
13 


196 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


LETTER  XLIX. 

Burgürner,  September  6,  1825. 

I begin  my  letter  at  midnight,  but  as  this  is  Tues- 
day, it  will  not  go  by  the  post  until  Friday.  It 
is  always  my  habit,  a  habit  which  I  cannot  entirely 
praise,  to  write  according  to  my  inclination,  and  not 
according  to  the  arrangements  of  the  post.  In  respect 
to  confidential  letters,  such  as  ours,  this  is  not  good,  for 
it  is  naturally  very  desirable  that  such  letters  should 
come  to  the  hands  of  those  for  whom  they  are  intended 
as  soon  as  possible.  But  there  is  no  harm  in  allow- 
ing letters,  which  have  no  connection  with  the  feel- 
ings, to  remain  for  some  days  unsent:  it  may  even 
be  advantageous,  as  it  allows  of  their  being  altered. 

Your  observations  respecting  the  influence  of  a 
quicker  or  slower  flow  of  blood  on  the  disposition,  are 
perfectly  correct,  and  similar  to  those  of  others.  It 
is,  however,  a  beautiful  peculiarity  in  the  economy  of 
man,  a  privilege  enjoyed  by  none  of  the  other  orders 
of  creation,  that  he  is  ever  conscious  of  a  mental 
power  over  the  influences  of  his  senses,  however 
violent  they  may  be.  An  inner  voice  tells  man 
that  he  is  free  and  independent,  charges  him  with 
his  good  and  bad  actions,  and  from  this  judgment  on 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


197 


himself,  which  must  always  be  sterner  and  severer 
than  that  of  others,  one  must  always  banish  all  cor- 
poreal influences.  There  are  two  distinct  dominions, 
that  of  freedom,  and  that  of  slavery,  and  we  cannot 
free  ourselves  by  our  own  unassisted  understandings 
from  the  war  which  is  continually  waged  between 
them.  In  the  world  of  vision  all  things  are  so  chained 
together  that  if  we  knew  all  circumstances,  from  the 
least  to  the  most  remote,  we  should  be  able  to  prove 
that  we  are  every  moment  necessitated  so  to  act  as 
we  have  acted.  Still  we  have  ever  the  feeling  that 
if  we  seized  upon  the  wheel,  and  were  willing  to  free 
ourselves  from  those  fetters  of  our  condition,  we 
should  be  able  to  do  so.  In  this  feeling  of  his  free- 
dom consists  the  dignity  of  man.  But  there  is  that 
also  by  which  he  passes  from  another  world  into  this, 
for  whilst  nothing  earthly  can  be  free,  nothing  celes- 
tial can  be  enchained.  This  conflict  can  only  be  set 
at  rest  by  allowing  the  lordship  of  the  whole  province 
of  freedom  to  prevail  over  the  whole  province  of  de- 
pendence. We  cannot  understand  this  in  separate 
and  individual  objects,  but  the  concatenation  of 
things,  from  the  beginning,  leads  to  effects  which 
show  that  in  the  end  they  must  answer  to  the  free 
determination  of  the  will. 

The  state  of  your  bodily  health,  dear  Charlotte,  is 


198 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


a  matter  of  great  consequence  with  me.  Be  careful 
above  all  things  to  be  composed.  This  is,  I  know, 
easier  said  than  done ;  but  a  man  may  do  much  in 
this  respect  if  he  will  only  observe  carefully  all  that 
which  causes  him  pain,  and  it  is  very  probable  that 
he  will  find  by  such  an  inquiry  much  cause  for  con- 
tentment, or  even  for  thankfulness.  If  the  soul  can 
once  succeed  in  banishing  all  sickness  to  the  body,  a 
great  point  is  gained,  and  thenceforth  corporeal  pain 
not  merely  becomes  supportable,  but  even  brings  a 
certain  composure  to  the  soul.  I  have  been  twice 
dangerously  ill,  but  have  never  suffered  from  a  weak 
constitution.  I  have,  however,  frequently  met  with 
men  and  women  who  were  daily  ill,  and  never  hoped 
to  escape  their  miseries  but  by  death.  Of  this  num- 
ber was  Schiller,  who  suffered  much,  and  was  always 
confident,  as  it  really  came  to  pass,  that  death  alone 
would  put  an  end  to  his  miseries.  But  we  may  truly 
say  of  him  that  he  preserved  his  mind  free  from  every 
malady,  for  at  whatever  hour  one  might  visit  him,  he 
was  cheerful  and  ready  for  either  simply  interesting 
or  earnest  discourse.  He  was  even  accustomed  to 
say  that  one  could  work  better  when  suffering  from 
a  certain  degree  of  pain,  if  it  were  not  excessively 
violent;  and  I  have  seen  him  under  the  most  dis- 
tressing circumstances  composing  poems  and  essays, 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


199 


to  which  one  would  certainly  not  attribute  such  an 
origin. 

I  can  easily  comprehend  that  an  agitation  of  the 
blood,  sorrow  and  anxiety,  joined  to  great  weakness, 
might  produce  a  weariness  of  life,  but  such  a  feeling 
should  be  combated  with  all  the  energies  of  the  soul. 
I  will  not  insist  on  this  as  an  ordinance  of  religion, 
but  simply  on  the  grounds  that  life,  even  in  its  utmost 
extent,  is  so  short,  in  comparison  with  eternity,  which 
is  wholly  veiled  to  us  as  regards  the  nature  of  our 
being,  that  we  must  take  care  not  to  limit  it  by  our 
wishes,  but  to  allow  it  to  continue  as  it  will,  for  really 
the  manner  in  which  a  man  views  his  fate  is  more 
important  than  what  his  fate  is.  It  is  a  saying,  that 
every  one  creates  his  own  fortunes,  and,  indeed,  we 
make  them  good  or  bad  by  our  reason  or  our  folly. 
One  may,  however,  so  receive  his  lot  as  ordained  by 
Providence,  and  so  adapt  himself  to  it,  as  to  find  it 
good,  however  opposite  it  may  seem. 

Remember  me  kindly,  and  be  sure  that  it  is  ever 
thus  that  I  remember  you.  I  think  of  you  oftener 
than  you  suppose. 

Yours,  H. 

If  you  write  to  me  before  the  20th  I  shall  receive 
your  letter  here :  if  later,  at  Berlin. 


200 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


LETTER  L. 

Burgürner,  September  26,  1825. 

Dear  Charlotte, 

I return  you  my  most  hearty  thanks  for  your 
letters  of  the  4th  and  6th.  I  have  perceived, 
however,  with  some  pain,  that  you  repeat  your  com- 
plaints of  a  weary  lack  of  every  pleasant  feeling,  and 
beseech  me  to  bear  with  you  as  with  a  sick  person. 
Do  not,  I  entreat  you,  dear  Charlotte,  allow  such  a 
thought  to  trouble  you  for  an  instant.  You  need  no 
consideration  at  my  hands,  as  the  tone  of  your  letter 
is  in  no  way  displeasing  to  me,  but  as  it  is  a  sign 
that  you  suffer.    Make  no  apology  on  this  account. 

I  had  earnestly  wished  that  you  might  pass  the 
rest  of  your  days  in  serene  contentment.  But  I  can 
well  comprehend  how  a  series  of  great  misfortunes 
may  shake  the  mind,  and  am  exceedingly  delighted 
with  the  confidence  with  which  you  describe  to  me 
your  attacks  of  low  spirits.  It  is  my  firm  belief  that 
we  have  it  very  much  in  our  own  power  to  repel,  or 
at  least  to  alleviate  the  evils  of  such  a  disposition. 
But  I  am  perfectly  willing  to  allow  that  what  is  quite 
possible,  or  even  easy,  to  one  man  under  certain  cir- 
cumstances, may  be  almost  impossible  to  another  in 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


201 


others.  No  mention  must  ever  be  made  of  disgusts, 
but  of  an  upright  submission  to  existing  circum- 
stances. I  am  however  convinced  that  things  will 
very  shortly  improve.  If  you  permit  me  to  advise 
you,  take  care  when  you  are  attacked  with  low  spirits 
to  turn  away  your  thoughts  from  their  inward  con- 
templations to  the  observance  of  outward  objects ;  I 
do  not  speak  of  your  usual  occupations,  but  of  any 
others  that  may  suit  your  taste,  for  this,  as  you  very 
rightly  observe,  is  the  best  protection  against  the  dis- 
position of  which  we  speak,  and  which  I  understand 
very  well  from  your  description  of  it,  as  a  dry,  un- 
fruitful temper,  a  misery  altogether  distinct  from  any 
deep,  particular  sorrow,  or  generally  unhappy  position. 
The  latter  is  the  more  affecting,  the  more  distressing 
to  the  mind,  but  brings  in  its  train  the  antidote  to  its 
own  poison,  from  which  arises  a  violent  but  quickly 
decided  contest,  most  elevating  and  purifying  to  the 
soul.  The  unfruitful  vexation  must,  on  the  contrary, 
find  something  to  act  upon  it  from  without,  and  give 
it  movement  and  activity,  and  this  is  by  so  much 
the  more  difficult  as  the  gloomy  feeling  itself  guards 
the  entrance. 

There  are,  however,  two  objects  which  ever  find  a 
ready  reception  with  such  dispositions  ;  love  of  nature 
and  contemplation.  You  will  here  ask,  perhaps,  what 


202 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


I  mean  by  ideas,  for  you  have  already  said  in  your 
letters  that  I  have  left  you  in  uncertainty  on  this 
point.  By  ideas  I  here  understood  nothing  but  an 
earnest  occupation  with  one's  inner  being,  deep  con- 
templation. This  contemplation  can  proceed  from 
and  attach  itself  to  everything;  but  its  aim,  the 
point  to  which  it  ever  tends,  is  always  one  and  the 
same,  namely,  the  general  end  of  humanity,  and  its 
position  in  that  moment,  when  everything  earthly 
shall  pass  away  and  lose  its  value,  and  only  that 
spirit  remain  which  can  but  be  considered  human  as 
humanity  is  regarded  in  its  highest  light.  The  soul 
traces  the  events  in  its  own  private  existence,  the 
occurrences  of  the  world  as  they  pass  before  it,  and 
its  reminiscences,  through  all  their  successive  devel- 
opments to  their  first  causes ;  investigates  their 
apparent  or  probable  consequences ;  and  pauses,  at 
length,  at  the  consideration  of  their  real  value. 
When  therefore  I  speak  so  pointedly  of  being  em- 
ployed about  ideas,  of  penetrating  into  their  meaning, 
I  intend  nothing  individual,  but  the  occupation  which 
we  have  in  reflection,  the  separating  of  things  from 
their  mere  appearance,  the  examination  of  ourselves 
and  others,  and  the  collecting  the  sum  of  all  our 
thoughts,  upon  that  which  alone  is  intrinsically 
excellent,  which  cannot  perish  in  perishable  man, 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


203 


because  it  proceeds  not  from  man,  and  which  accord- 
ing to  just  measurement,  is  such,  that  man  should 
altogether  and  irrespectively  devote  himself  to  its 
service.  I  am  not  speaking  of  merely  scientific  pur- 
suits. For  although  these  may  collect  and  prepare 
subjects  for  reflection,  may  guide  and  purify  it,  they 
cannot  affect  its  final  end.  True,  healthful  reflection, 
needs  only  the  natural  powers  of  the  soul.  It  can 
attain  to  any  height,  since  the  threads  of  human  fate, 
to  which  everything  is  bound,  may  be  taken  up  by 
every  man ;  and  the  ideas  which  are  thereby  excited 
exist  in  every  one,  in  the  unlearned  as  well  as  in  the 
learned,  only  in  various  degrees  of  clearness  and 
precision.  Hence  to  consecrate  ourselves  to  this 
species  of  reflection,  we  require  not  so  much  pro- 
found powers  of  intellect,  as  a  mind  strengthened 
and  purified  by  the  banishment  of  all  unholy  desires, 
by  the  rejection  of  all  that  is  little,  by  indifference  to 
pleasure  and  outward  fortune,  and  by  self-control. 
But  the  employment  of  the  powers  of  the  under- 
standing has  the  same  beneficial  influence  on  the 
inner  man  as  the  sun  on  nature.  They  disperse 
the  clouds  from  the  mind,  enlighten  and  warm  the 
spirit,  and  gradually  bring  it  to  a  state  of  perfect 
repose.  If  I  am  put  out  of  temper  by  anything, 
(which  seldom  happens  more  than  twice  or  thrice 


204 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


a-year,)  or  am  ill,  my  surest  way  of  getting  rid  of 
both  evils  is  by  applying  to  some  rather  difficult 
study.  By  that  state  which  you  call  in  your  letter 
"joylessness,"  you  understand,  it  appears  to  me,  not 
so  much  an  absence  of  all  cause  for  joy  as  a  want  of 
susceptibility  to  joy.  You  ask  me  whether  I  have 
ever  experienced  such  a  disposition  of  mind.  I  have 
not.  Men  who  have  most  of  their  wishes  gratified, 
as  is  the  case,  for  the  most  part,  with  me,  frequently 
lose  their  relish  for  pleasure,  exchanging  it  for  a 
feeling  of  indifference.  But  this  has  never  been  so 
with  me.  I  can  say,  on  the  contrary,  with  the  ut- 
most sincerity  and  thankfulness,  verified  by  my  daily 
experience,  that  in  every  object  in  nature  I  can  find 
something  to  love,  some  cause  for  joy,  a  love  and  a 
joy  which,  so  far  from  being  injured  by  frequent 
repetition,  ever  become  the  more  lively,  the  more 
soul-felt. 

I  hope  in  a  few  days  to  receive  a  letter  from  you, 
and  shall  therefore  leave  my  own  unsealed  for  the 
present.  I  hope  and  expect  that  you  will  write  to 
me  very  frequently,  confiding  to  me  all  your  sorrows, 
for  whose  alleviation  I  am  so  anxious,  and  which 
have  already  lasted  too  long. 

I  have  decided  on  dispatching  my  letter  at  once, 
instead  of  awaiting  yours  as  I  had  at  first  proposed, 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


205 


for  I  know  that  my  reflections  will  console  you  as 
being  a  proof  of  that  sympathy  with  which  I  regard 
you  so  unchangeably. 

Yours,  H. 


LETTER  LI. 

Dear  Charlotte, 

I received  your  letter  of  the  20th,  just  when  mine 
had  been  posted  for  you.  I  write  to  you,  how- 
ever, at  the  moment,  although  it  must  be  very  briefly. 
No  matter.  I  thank  you  from  my  heart  that  you 
confide  in  me  as  openly  and  freely  as  I  had  expected. 
Yes,  my  dear  friend,  I  have  for  many  weeks  past 
known  all  the  emotions  of  your  soul ;  and  I  judged 
wrongly  when  I  thought  that  in  so  deep  a  mind  as 
yours  anything  could  be  lost.  You  explain  to  me 
most  clearly  all  the  causes  of  your  late  distress. 
You  cannot  overcome  the  painful  feeling,  that  you 
cannot  return  "the  least  happiness  for  the  abundance 
which  you  receive,"  as  you  kindly  express  it.  And 
you  finally  grieve  that  you  have  deprived  yourself 
of  that  loftier  spirit,  which  you  might  have  obtained 
had  you  resigned  yourself  unreservedly  to  my  guid- 


206 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


ance.  You  attribute  your  sufferings,  without  attempt- 
ing to  justify  them,  to  the  excitability  of  your  nervous 
system,  which  has  been  so  long  and  so  deeply 
shaken ;  and  affectionately  acknowledge,  as  I  antici- 
pated would  be  the  case,  that  although  you  could 
never  bring  yourself  to  promise  a  decided  acqui- 
escence, you  never  gave  up  the  idea  of  complying 
with  my  wishes.  Through  all  that  may  have  arisen, 
the  deeply  sad  feelings  which  have  overpowered 
you,  dear,  good  Charlotte,  I  have  recognized  for 
many  weeks  past  all  these  emotions  of  your  mind, 
and  may  say,  with  perfect  sincerity,  that  the  know- 
ledge has  only  increased  the  earnest  respect  with 
which  I  ever  regard  you.  These  emotions  are  but 
the  natural  fruit  of  a  noble  womanly  disposition.  In 
these  consists  their  value ;  and  I  thank  you  from  my 
heart  that  you  esteem  me  so  highly  as  not  to  conceal 
from  me  these  secrets  of  your  soul.  I  have  now  to 
prefer  my  request  to  you.  I  repeat  what  I  have  so 
often  said,  that  none  of  my  feelings  are  changed  in 
respect  to  you ;  that  I  ever  regard  you  with  lively 
interest,  in  word  and  deed.  It  would  be  sad,  indeed, 
if  you  could  never  regain  the  trustfulness  of  your 
heart.  I  feel  convinced  that  that  must  return  with 
your  beautiful,  happy  contentment.  Glad  indeed 
should  I  be  to  assist  you,  but  you  must  do  your 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


207 


own  part,  and  above  all  things  resist  those  sad  pre- 
sentiments to  which  you  have  given  up  your  mind, 
generally  so  pious  and  trustful,  so  ready  to  remember 
that  not  only  its  actions,  but  its  feelings  also,  are 
tried  by  an  invisible  Judge. 

By  attending  to,  thinking  on,  and  following  my 
wishes  and  counsel,  you  will  do  me  a  great  favor. 
Farewell !  Pardon  the  shortness  of  my  letter,  for  I 
am  on  the  point  of  leaving,  and  wish  you  to  direct 
your  next  letter  to  Berlin. 

Yours,  with  unchangeable  affection,  H. 

P.  S.  You  mention  an  idea,  an  hypothesis  you 
call  it,  in  your  last  letter,  to  which  you  are  very 
much  attached.  You  know  how  much  interest  I 
take  in  ideas,  and  how  especially  interesting  I  con- 
sider yours.  I  pray  you  to  write  as  soon  as  possible 
all  you  have  to  say  on  that  subject.  I  should  like  to 
have,  as  I  have  already  said  so  frequently,  an  exact 
knowledge  of  all  your  ideas,  and  consider  the  confi- 
dence with  which  you  impart  them  to  me  as  a  very 
great  privilege. 


208 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


LETTER  LII. 


Tegel,  October  17,  1825. 


Dear  Charlotte, 

\  OON  after  my  return  to  this  place,  which  was  at 


for  the  contents  of  which,  so  entirely  answering  as 
they  do  my  expectations,  I  return  you  my  most 
cordial  thanks.  I  felt  quite  certain  that  you  would 
be  so  kind  as  to  comply  with  my  request,  and  will 
now  leave  that  subject  for  something  else,  but  must 
express  the  pleasure  with  which  I  find  that  your 
health  is  improving,  and  that  you  have  at  length 
consulted  a  physician.  Follow  his  counsels  when 
not  excessively  repugnant  to  you.  Sickness  of  mind, 
which,  however,  I  am  far  from  attributing  to  you, 
disappears  of  itself,  and  that  very  speedily.  So  clear 
and  vigorous  a  soul  as  yours  may  be  easily  healed 
of  any  infirmity  by  earnest  and  vigorous  self-manage- 
ment. God  has  endowed  men  with  free-will  that 
they  may  receive  or  reject  the  good  and  the  evil 
according  to  the  suggestions  of  prudence. 

You  have,  doubtless,  observed  the  beauty  of  the 
stars  in  the  eastern  hemisphere  during  the  last  days 


the  beginning  of  October,  I  received  your  letter, 


HUMBOLDT  'ij  LETTERS. 


209 


of  September  and  the  first  of  October;  three  planets 
and  a  star  of  the  first  magnitude,  Mars  and  Jupiter 
in  the  Lion,  and  Yenus  as  the  morning  star  near 
Sirius,  being  close  together.  I  mention  it,  that,  if 
you  have  not  already  observed  it,  you  may  not  lose 
this  glorious  spectacle,  which  is  most  beautiful  be- 
tween three  and  four  in  the  morning,  at  which  time 
almost  every  day  my  wife  and  I  have  arisen  to  view 
it,  always  tearing  ourselves  away  from  its  contem- 
plation with  difficulty.  From  my  youth  I  have  loved 
to  contemplate  the  stars.  In  this,  as  in  most  of  our 
other  sentiments,  my  wife  and  I  perfectly  agree.  It 
has  been  my  constant  habit  to  devote  some  portion 
of  time,  more  or  less,  every  clear  night,  to  the  con- 
templation of  the  skies,  and  scarcely  has  any  season 
been  more  favorable  than  this  wonderfully  clear  and 
beautiful  autumn.  I  cannot  say,  in  respect  to  the 
stars,  that  the  view  of  their  infinity,  and  of  the 
immeasurable  space  which  they  occupy,  fills  me  with 
rapture ;  it  rather,  indeed,  perplexes  the  mind ;  and 
in  this  view  of  the  numberless  and  the  infinite  in 
space  lies  much  which  certainly  depends  only  upon 
human  fancy,  and  not  upon  eternal  truth.  Still  less 
do  I  consider  them  in  connection  with  the  life  here- 
after. But  the  simple  thought,  that  they  are  so  far 
beyond  and  above  all  that  is  earthly ;  the  feeling, 


210 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


that  all  that  is  earthly  vanishes  before  them;  that 
individual  man,  when  compared  with  them  in  the 
vastness  of  space,  is  so  unutterably  insignificant; 
that  his  fate,  his  joys  and  sorrows,  upon  which  he 
sets  such  worth,  must  vanish  into  nothing  when 
measured  by  the  vastness  of  these  objects;  and 
that,  moreover,  the  stars  connect  all  men  and  all 
ages  of  the  earth  together,  that  they  have  seen  all 
things  from  the  beginning,  and  will  see  all  things  to 
the  end,  — all  this  so  affects  me  that  I  am  lost  in 
silent  delight  whenever  I  contemplate  the  starry 
heavens.  Surely  it  is  a  sublime  spectacle,  when,  in 
the  stillness  of  night,  over  the  whole  bright  region 
of  heaven,  the  stars,  as  a  chorus  of  worlds,  march 
up  and  down,  and  in  a  certain  degree  divide  being 
into  two  parts.  The  one  part,  that  pertaining  to 
the  earthly,  appears  as  dumb  in  the  full  stillness  of 
the  night;  while  the  other  ascends  in  sublimity, 
beauty,  and  glory.  Again,  the  starry  heavens,  re- 
garded in  one  point  of  view,  are  of  great  moral  in- 
fluence. Who  could  love  immorality,  and  love  such 
thoughts  and  feelings  as  they  excite  ?  How  charm- 
ing is  the  simple  view-jof  this  most  wonderful  of  the 
scenes  of  Nature !  I  have  frequently  thought  that 
you  would  be  much  pleased  with  the  study  of 
astronomy.    If  you  should  wish  it,  I  would  will- 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


211 


ingly  give  you  some  instruction,  and  point  out  to 

you  the  proper  books. 

You  ask  me  whether  I  have  been  at  Burgörner 

alone,  or  with  my  family.    We  have  had  all  our 

children  and  some  other  relations  with  us  at  Bur- 

görner  this  summer,  so  that  there  has  not  been  much 

vacant  room  in  our  rather  large  house.  My  daughter, 

however,  came  from  Silesia  rather  late,  and  my 

youngest  son  left  rather  early,  and  I  have  not  been 

there  always.    Once  I  was  absent,  having  gone  to 

fetch  my  daughter,  and  at  other  times  I  spent  some 

days  on  a  couple  of  my  wife's  estates.    I  may  well 

say  that  I  enjoy  both  the  family  circle  and  solitude. 

I  never  wish  myself  from  the  first  in  the  second ; 

but  when  I  am  alone,  I  feel  my  time  and  myself 

peculiarly  my  own.  But  few  men  can  live  a  happier, 

more  cheerful,  more  serene  life  with  their  families 

than  I ;  every  one  is  contented  with  me,  and  I  with 

every  one.    Unanimity  ever  reigns  throughout  my 

family,  which  never  suffers  any  disturbance  except 

from  sickness.    Little,  therefore,  can  be  said  of  this 

portion  of  my  life,  for  it  is  marked  by  few  incidents. 

Of  sickness,  God  be  praised,  we  have  known  but 

little.    My  wife,  indeed,  has  suffered  much  at  times, 

but  has  been  enabled  by  the  great  strength  of  her 

mind  to  restrain  the  outward  signs  of  sickness,  and 
14 


212 


H ÜMB Ol  V  T 'S  LETTERS. 


for  some  time  past  has  been  in  really  good  health. 
My  daughter  and  her  husband  are  staying  with  us 
here  at  present,  but  my  eldest  son  and  his  wife  have 
returned  to  Silesia,  to  which  place  my  two  daughters 
will  soon  follow  them.  So  much  for  my  material 
life.  From  my  habit  of  saying  but  little  in  letters 
of  my  outward  circumstances  has  arisen  the  cause 
of  my  neglecting  to  say  whether  I  were  alone  or 
not.  Circumstances  only  interest  me  as  they  are 
the  sources  of  thoughts  and  feelings.  In  conversa- 
tion with  my  family  even,  I  say  but  little  more  than 
I  am  obliged  respecting  my  own  and  others'  actions. 
It  has  ever  appeared  to  me  a  sign  of  poverty  of 
ideas,  when  a  man  fills  his  letters  or  his  conversation 
with  narrations  of  events  or  circumstances;  and  it 
has  never  been  my  opinion  that  communications  of 
joy  and  sorrow  are  necessary  to  friendship.  This  is 
called  friendship,  and  may,  perhaps,  be  friendship, 
but  there  is,  God  be  praised,  a  higher,  nobler,  and 
purer  species,  which  needs  not  such  food,  because  it 
has  a  more  excellent  nourishment. 

You  will  receive  in  a  few  days,  dear  Charlotte, 
the  engravings  which  I  have  so  long  promised  you, 
and  which,  with  the  plans  and  explanations,  will 
give  you  a  tolerable  idea  of  the  character  of  my  most 
usual  residence.    They  belong  to  an  architectural 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


213 


work,  and  I  could  not,  until  very  lately,  procure 
them  singly.  I  have  re-perused  your  last  letter,  and 
one  passage,  which  has  peculiarly  pleased  me,  I 
have  read  very  frequently.  What  truly  beautiful, 
and  even  exalted  ideas,  are  connected  with  our 
tender  and  long-enduring  friendship !  The  most 
striking  of  its  circumstances  is  that  you  have  pre- 
served the  affection  which  you  felt  for  me  in  the 
days  of  your  youth  in  your  more  advanced  years. 
Among  so  many  earthly  changes  this  friendship  has 
been  a  sign  of  durability,  or,  as  one  might  even  say, 
of  eternity;  or,  on  the  other  side,  of  the  firm  en- 
durance of  the  unchangeable ;  of  the  honor  paid  to 
what  is  truly  excellent  in  the  worthy  idea  of  a 
higher  good ;  in  the  casting  away  of  all  little  con- 
tracted notions.  For  that  narrow-heartedness,  which 
one  so  often  meets,  and  wherein  he  who  nourishes 
it  finds  his  greatest  satisfaction,  proves  the  sensuality 
of  the  feelings  of  those  who  need  to  place  themselves 
behind  such  a  screen.  That  love  which  remains 
true  to  its  lofty  origin  is  as  genial  and  bright  as  the 
sun ;  exalting  the  soul  in  faith  and  hope.  Our  finite 
and  imperfect  trust  and  faith  have  already  obtained 
for  us  many  benefits ;  and  it  is  an  exalting  and  in- 
spiring hope,  that  we  shall  find  hereafter  in  a  higher 
sphere  those  heavenly  gifts  which  have  already 


214 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


blessed  us  so  highly  in  this.  Ever  be  convinced, 
dear  Charlotte,  of  my  unchangeable  affection. 

Yours,  H. 


LETTER  LIII. 

Berlin,  October  30,  1825. 

Dear  Charlotte, 

I write  only  a  few  lines  to-day,  to  accompany  the 
engravings  of  Tegel,  which  I  send  you.  The 
destination  of  particular  rooms  is  partly  shown  by 
the  plan.  I  live  in  that  which  is  described  as  the 
library,  and  in  the  cabinets  facing  the  garden.  The 
rest  of  the  ground-floor  is  occupied  with  offices.  On 
the  first  floor  is  a  lofty  staircase,  as  is  represented  in 
the  print.  The  dining-room  is  over  the  kitchen.  On 
the  opposite  side  of  the  house,  in  the  round  building 
at  the  back  of  the  court,  is  my  sleeping-room.  The 
remaining  apartments  of  this  story  are  those  of  my 
wife  and  unmarried  daughter,  and  the  parlor.  The 
second  story  is  occupied  by  my  children ;  and  when 
there  are  more  at  home  than  it  will  accommodate,  we 
find  room  for  them  on  the  first  floor. 

Farewell !    Yours  as  ever,  H. 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


215 


LETTER  LIV. 


Berlin,  November  8,  1825. 


Dear  Charlotte, 

rou  will  have  received  by  this  time  the  engravings 


-L  which  I  sent  you,  and  must,  I  know,  have 
been  pleased  with  them.  They  are  so  exact  that  if 
you  look  them  over  carefully  you  will  be  able  to 
form  a  very  good  notion  of  the  house.  It  is  a  place 
which  I  love  very  much,  but  at  which  I  have  lived 
very  little.  I  resided  there,  for  instance,  only  four 
months  last  year.  I  have  reasons  for  making  the 
town  my  place  of  residence  in  the  winter,  although 
my  wife  and  I  would  much  prefer  the  country.  And 
in  summer  the  affairs  of  my  other  estates  compel,  or 
at  least  render  it  very  advisable,  that  I  should  visit 
them.  Thus  it  is,  that  those  who  are  apparently 
quite  free  are  sometimes  slaves.  I  am  attached  to 
Tegel  for  many  reasons,  among  the  chief  of  which 
are  the  antiquities  in  marble,  and  copies  of  antiqui- 
ties in  plaster,  which  adorn  the  rooms.  A  sense  of 
the  beauties  of  sculpture  is  productive  of  the  purest 
and  noblest  enjoyment,  and  one  is  very  loth  to  be 
without  the  presence  of  those  objects  which  excite 
in  the  mind  pleasurable  sensations  which  are  unde- 


216 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


caying.  Charming  as  is  the  beauty  of  the  living 
human  frame,  it  bears  no  comparison  with  that  of 
the  antique  statues.  For  the  enjoyment  of  this 
pleasure  no  extraordinary  knowledge  is  required, 
nothing,  in  fact,  but  an  unrepressed  sense  of  the 
beautiful.  The  beauty  of  a  work  of  art  is,  for  the 
very  reason  that  it  is  a  work  of  art,  much  freer  from 
imperfections  than  nature,  and  never  excites  selfish 
or  sensual  emotions.  We  observe  it  attentively,  we 
wonder  at  it  more  and  more,  but  we  do  not  form  any 
connection  between  it  and  ourselves.  To  the  beauty 
of  sculpture  applies  what  Goethe  has  said  so  finely 
of  the  stars :  "  We  never  desire  the  stars,  although 
we  take  such  pleasure  in  their  light."  You  will 
remark  amongst  the  statues  on  the  ground-floor  the 
image  of  a  woman  without  head  or  arms.  This  is 
no  longer  in  that  part  of  the  house,  but  is  placed  in 
my  library.  I  have  had  it  a  long  time,  even  when 
I  was  in  Rome.  It  is  one  of  the  most  perfect 
antique  statues  which  exist,  and  there  could  scarcely 
be  a  finer  representation  of  female  beauty.  All  the 
figures  which  are  drawn  as  in  the  hall  are  now  in 
my  library,  except  the  round  vase  in  the  middle. 
You  will,  doubtless,  have  wondered  what  this  is, 
and  certainly  will  not  have  guessed  rightly.  It  is 
an  antique  marble  fountain  cup,  and  the  bas-relief 


HUM  HOL  D  T  'S  LETTERS. 


217 


round  it  represents  a  Bacchanalian  festival,  and  even 
now  is  dented  with  the  marks  of  the  buckets. 
Heaven  knows  by  what  means  it  could  come  into  a 
monastery.  The  legend  says,  that  it  was  the  foun- 
tain in  which  the  holy  Pope  Calixtus  suffered  mar- 
tyrdom, and  its  waters  were  considered  to  possess  a 
healing  power.  However  that  may  be,  the  Pope 
wished  to  sell  the  vase,  and  I  bought  it  of  him.  I 
had  some  trouble  in  obtaining  permission  to  bring  it 
from  Rome.  But  I  obtained  it  at  last  by  means  of 
my  friendship  with  his  Holiness.  In  the  hall  over 
my  library  are  three  beautiful  columns  of  an  extra- 
ordinarily fine  marble,  and  a  Medusa's  head  in  por- 
phyry, which  were  given  to  me  by  the  Pope.  The 
most  delicate  of  my  antiques,  a  little  draped  figure 
of  a  nymph,  stands  in  a  niche  in  the  saloon.  I 
trouble  you,  dear  Charlotte,  with  these  details,  be- 
cause they  will  all  help  to  give  you  a  better  idea  of 
the  interior  of  my  house.  I  have  no  paintings  here, 
such  as  I  possess  being  at  Berlin. 

I  have  been  very  glad  to  find,  as  I  do  from  your 
last  letter,  that  you  have  recovered  that  calm,  trusting 
tone  of  mind  which  is  so  peculiarly  your  own.  Sedu- 
lously preserve  it,  and  never  again  allow  yourself  to 
become  a  prey  to  vexatious  thoughts.  I  know  well 
that  this  is  easier  said  than  done,  and  feel  that  your 


218 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


position  is  at  present  far  from  what  it  should  be,  but 
as  long  as  you  possess  your  fair  and  singular  feeling 
of  content,  you  possess  that  which  must  ever  exalt 
and  satisfy.  You  are  able  to  say,  moreover,  that  all 
the  good  of  your  present  position  is  the  result  of 
your  own  exertions,  your  own  unassisted  efforts. 
The  decision  of  character,  the  talents  and  activity 
which  must  have  been  developed  by  these  means, 
are  a  further  reward  in  themselves,  of  a  perfectly 
distinct  species  from  the  reward  of  their  results. 
My  constant  thought,  however,  is,  that  your  whole 
being  requires  another  kind  of  occupation.  We 
should  always  be  careful  to  recollect  that  outward 
circumstances  give  peculiarities  to  the  mind  which 
may  appear  totally  heterogeneous,  but  which  would, 
nevertheless,  have  scarcely  been  developed  without 
them!  I  am  glad  that  you  have  found  means  to 
obtain  more  of  that  repose  of  which  you  stand  in  so 
much  need.  The  wants  of  our  inner  being  are  more 
difficult  to  bear  than  those  of  our  material  life. 

You  wish  my  opinion  on  Walter  Scott,  and  ask 
me  to  direct  you  in  your  reading.  It  is  difficult  for 
me  to  give  you  advice  on  this  subject.  I  read  but 
little  German,  and  such  books  as  I  do  read  are  of  a 
kind  which  would  be  useless  to  you :  I  am  therefore 
but  a  bad  guide  for  your  studies.    You  remark  that, 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


219 


in  spite  of  the  fashion,  you  cannot  relish  Scott's 
romances.  That  the  robber,  prison,  and  hostelry 
scenes,  with  the  terrible  creations  of  his  fancy,  leave 
an  unpleasant  impression  on  your  mind ;  that  a 
couple  of  his  romances  have  not  given  you  a  single 
exalted  idea ;  and  you  conclude  by  prophesying  for 
his  novels  an  existence  of  no  longer  duration  than 
the  works  of  Lafontaine.  If  I  cannot  altogether 
agree  with  you  in  this,  I  certainly  will  not  offer  a 
contrary  opinion.  I  have,  however,  read  some  of 
them  with  my  wife  in  the  evening,  and  have  been 
much  pleased  with  them ;  I  can  especially  recommend 
to  you  the  Astrologer,  the  Tolbooth  of  Edinburgh,  and 
Ivanhoe.  There  is  in  these  romances  a  most  excel- 
lent truth  of  coloring,  and  delicacy  in  the  delineation 
of  character,  and  they  possess  the  further  attraction 
of  containing  many  historical  details,  exact  represen- 
tations of  the  manners  and  customs  of  the  various 
periods  which  they  describe.  I  always  like  history 
in  the  shape  of  readings,  and  I  often  think  that,  if  I 
should  have  the  misfortune,  which  people  who  have 
used  their  eyes  much  frequently  have,  of  losing  my 
sight  entirely,  or  almost  entirely,  I  would  have  his- 
tories read  aloud  to  me.  Ancient  history  interests 
me  more  than  modern,  but  if  you  prefer  the  latter, 
you  will  find  a  crowd  of  amusing  memoirs  in  the 


220 


HLMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


French  literature  of  late  years.  I  have  read  few  of 
them  myself,  but  have  heard  that  they  are,  as  one 
would  naturally  imagine,  very  interesting.  I  look 
forward  with  great  pleasure  to  the  continuation  of 
your  biography.  Allow  me  to  repeat,  dear  Charlotte, 
the  hearty  assurance  of  my  unvarying  affection. 


Dear  Charlotte, 

10R  the  continuation  of  your  biography,  which  I 


J-  have  received  and  read  since  my  last  letter, 
receive  my  most  hearty  thanks.  It  has  interested 
me  equally  with  the  preceding  portion,  and  renewed 
the  pleasure  which  I  took  in  that.  The  period  of 
which  you  now  treat  is  the  most  interesting  in  a 
woman's  life,  and  the  more  so  in  this  case,  that  it 
is  peculiarly  wanting  in  what  are  usually  called  inci- 
dents. But  the  upward  growth  of  a  human  being, 
the  development  of  his  mind  and  soul,  with  their 
various  properties  and  peculiarities,  proceeding  from, 
and  connected  with,  each  other,  are  all  circumstances 


Yours, 


H. 


LETTER  LV. 


Berlin,  December  I,  1825. 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


221 


which  possess  for  him,  who  knows  how  rightly  to 
value  and  understand  them,  a  greater  interest  than 
any  of  the  chances  of  outward  life,  which  are  after 
all  nothing  but  disturbances.  And  this  train  of  in- 
ward circumstances,  so  to  speak,  is  portrayed  so 
simply  and  naturally  in  this  portion  of  your  biog- 
raphy, that  it  is  manifestly  the  work  of  a  bold  and 
delicate  hand.  By  this  I  am  enabled  to  see  you  as 
you  used  to  be,  to  become  acquainted  with  your 
circumstances,  and  to  trace,  in  a  most  interesting 
point  of  view,  days  now  long  since  gone  by.  The 
delight  which  I  take  in  your  representations  of  per- 
sons who  are  strangers  to  me,  proves  the  sympathy 
between  us ;  and  let  me  repeat  my  lively  and  hearty 
thanks  for  the  great  pleasure  which  I  have  felt  in 
this  perusal  of  the  last  portion  of  your  biography 
which  you  have  sent  me.  Among  the  sketches  which 
you  have  given,  was  one  which  particularly  pleased 
me  ;  I  allude  to  that  of  your  former  friend,  Henrietta 

L  .  And  all  which  relates  to  her,  your  unobserved 

connection,  and  your  visible  life,  increases  the  interest 
of  this  narrative,  in  proportion  as  the  interest  which 
your  attachment  to  her,  and  as  the  influence  which 
she  exercised  upon  you,  was  enduring.  It  is,  how- 
ever, very  delightful  to  think,  that  this  was  not  so 
much  an  influence  of  the  kind,  which  a  friend  who 


222 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


is  such  by  nature,  or,  who  has  become  so  in  the 
intercourse  of  society,  exercises ;  but  one  created  by 
the  sentiments  which  you  entertained. for  the  person 
herself.  You  have  greatly  wondered  that  such  an 
affection  and  confidence  should  have  sprung  up  be- 
tween you  two,  whose  dispositions  were  so  different. 
It  is,  however,  very  clear,  that  one  cause  of  your  love 
for  your  friend,  and  the  delight  which  you  took  in  her 
company,  was  the  romance  attached  to  a  clandestine 
intimacy,  and  the  efforts  which  you  were  forced  to 
make  to  keep  it  secret;  and  another,  the  influence 
which  your  friend's  beauty  had  upon  your  mind  and 
spirit.  But  I  believe,  with  you,  that  its  real  and 
chief  cause  was  pure  womanly  love.  The  longing 
for  friendship  is  common  to  the  youth  of  both  sexes; 
and  when  it  does  not  meet  with  fit  objects,  it  melts 
away  into  other  feelings  of  a  like  nature,  imparting 
to  them  its  hue,  rather  than  receiving  theirs.  The 
origin  of  your  estimation  of  a  friend,  as  one  of  the 
greatest  joys  of  life,  was  no  doubt  your  early  perusal 
of  Clarissa,  which  filled  your  mind  with  an  ideal  to 
be  realized  by  Henrietta. 

It  must  have  been  difficult  for  friendship  to  connect 
you  two ;  for  it  ever  demands  unity  of  character  in 
respect  to  the  main  points,  and  it  is  almost  vain  for 
persons  so  obviously  different  as  you  describe  your 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


223 


friend  and  yourself  to  have  been,  to  become,  or  at 
least  to  remain,  very  much  attached.  And  this  is  a 
more  unusual  occurrence  when  the  parties  are  of 
equal  age,  as  you  were,  for  then  the  one  feels  in  her 
soul  a  necessity  to  submit  to  the  other  as  the  superior. 
Love,  however,  receives  not  its  impressions  so  much 
from  the  object  itself,  as  from  that  object  clothed  in 
the  splendor  which  is  most  agreeable  to  its  fancy. 
What  you  saw  in  the  features,  in  the  being  of  your 
friend,  existed,  perhaps,  in  her  real  disposition,  but 
was  modified  by  you  as  it  came  into  action,  and  at 
length  acquired  a  species  of  magical  power,  which 
was  in  fact  the  birth  of  your  own  sentiment.  There 
is  something  peculiarly  touching  in  the  delight  which 
the  mind  experiences  in  watching  the  object  of  its 
love  asleep.  But  there  is  much  that  is  characteristic 
in  sleep.  How  charming  is  the  graceful  sleep  of 
infants ;  how  angelic  their  slumbers !  How  sad 
and  terrible  the  expression  of  a  conscience-troubled 
sleeper!    Farewell!    With  the  tenderest  affection, 

Yours,  H. 


224 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


LETTER  LVI. 


Berlin,  December  25,  1825. 


Dear  Charlotte, 

\  ince  I  dispatched  my  last  letter  I  have  received 


U  two  from  you,  one  dated  the  6th,  and  the  other 
the  20th  of  this  month,  for  which  I  heartily  thank 
you.  I  am  glad  to  find  that  you  are  pleased  with 
the  engravings  of  Tegel,  but  had  neither  wished  nor 
expected  that  the  mansion  should  appear  to  you  a 
stately  castle.  The  old  building  which,  as  you  will 
have  observed,  is  less  than  the  modern,  was  the 
hunting-lodge  of  the  great  elector.  It  afterwards 
came  into  my  family.  This  place,  on  account  of  its 
smallness,  and  because  there  is  a  village  of  Tegel,  in 
which  I  have  no  property,  was  commonly  called  little 
Tegel  castle.  It  is  only  lately  that  the  people,  much 
against  my  wishes,  have  begun  to  call  it  a  castle. 
In  Silesia,  indeed,  I  have  really  a  large  old  castle, 
with  its  towers  and  moats ;  but  that  place  I  call  a 
mansion.  This,  however,  is  a  very  good  and  con- 
venient residence,  for  which  I  must  thank  the  archi- 
tect, to  whom  I  left  all  the  arrangements.  And  one 
of  the  chief  merits  of  the  house,  in  my  opinion,  is, 
that  I  had  nothing  to  do  with  its  construction. 


HUMBOLDT  S  LETTERS. 


225 


We  have  arrived  at  the  close  of  the  year!  Of  a 
year  which  with  me  has  passed  happily  enough,  but 
too  swiftly  to  allow  me  to  perform  much  which  I  had 
proposed  at  its  commencement.  That  I  ever  think 
of  you  with  the  most  hearty  affection,  and  especially 
at  the  close  of  the  year,  you  already  know.  Before 
all  things,  I  wish  that  you  may  be  preserved  during 
the  next  from  the  ill  health  which  attacks  you  so 
frequently,  and  retain  the  serenity  of  your  mind. 
Be  assured  of  my  unvarying  sympathy,  and  the 
continuance  of  that  affection  which  you  value  so 
highly.  It  is  my  earnest  desire  to  serve  you  to  the 
utmost  of  my  ability,  and  it  would  give  me  inexpres- 
sible pleasure  if  you  would  confide  in  me  even  more 
trustfully  than  you  do  at  present.  You  will  ever  find 
me  the  same. 

I  have  complained  to  you  of  the  swiftness  of  the 
flight  of  time,  which  troubles  me  in  respect  to  my 
occupations,  but  in  every  other  point  of  view,  is  a 
matter  of  indifference.  I  have  no  aversion  to  old 
age,  and  from  my  youth  I  have  been  able,  by  the  aid 
of  my  peculiar  disposition,  to  regard  the  stroke  of 
death,  not  merely  as  an  ordinary  event,  which  could 
not  possibly  cause  sorrow,  but  even  as  something 
joyful.  I  have  long  since  closed  my  account  with 
the  world.    I  have  no  reason  for  wishing  the  con- 


226 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


tinuance  of  my  life ;  I  have  laid  no  plans  for  the 
future  ;  I  receive  fortune's  gifts  thankfully,  but  should 
be  very  foolish  to  depend  on  their  continuance.  My 
thoughts  and  feelings  are  the  circle  in  which  I  live, 
beyond  which  I  need  scarcely  anything,  and  which 
are  too  peculiarly  my  own  ever  to  desert  me.  No 
one  may  draw  aside  the  veil  which  Providence,  in  its 
infinite  wisdom,  has  hung  before  the  future.  It  is 
only  given  to  the  soul  to  gain  a  freedom,  a  clearness 
of  perception  of  the  deep  and  the  exalted,  a  warmth 
and  purity  of  feeling,  for  the  riches  and  beauty  of 
the  surrounding  world.  A  single  glance  at  the  im- 
measurable distance  of  the  starry  heavens  imparts 
to  me  a  feeling  associated  with  a  sense  of  inward 
strength,  of  which  he  only  can  form  a  notion  who 
has  himself  experienced  it ;  and  thus  the  close  of  life, 
so  long  as  it  is  free  from  sickness  and  pain,  which 
may  attack  even  childhood  and  youth,  appears  to  me 
as  the  fairest  and  most  cheerful  period  of  existence. 

I  very  much  fear  that  the  shortness  of  the  days  at 
this  season  of  the  year,  renders  it  necessary  that  you 
should  double  your  exertions.  At  any  rate,  dear 
Charlotte,  spare  your  eyes.  Do  not  work  late  at 
night,  and  ever  remember  that  it  causes  me  great 
uneasiness  that  you,  who  are  fitted  for  so  different  a 
position,  should  have  to  work  so  hard  for  your  sub- 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


227 


sistence.  That  you  never  complain  distresses  me  the 
more.  I  wish  that  you  could  find  leisure  to  think  on 
your  biography,  which  gives  me  such  real  pleasure. 
You  thought  when  you  began  your  sketches  that 
they  would  never  end,  but  you  have  already  finished 
those  which  relate  to  the  period  of  your  childhood, 
and  if  by-and-by  you  continue  the  work  with  dili- 
gence, it  will  soon  be  concluded. 

****** 

You  say  that  you  wish  my  opinion  and  views  on 
many  important  sentiments  and  ideas.  I  shall  give 
them  with  great  pleasure.  Express  without  reserve 
your  thoughts  and  feelings. 

Remember  me  at  the  close  of  the  year,  and  be  sure 
that  I  ever  think  of  you  with  unvarying  sympathy 
and  affection. 

Yours,  H. 


LETTER  LVII. 

Berlin,  February  14,  1826. 

Dear  Charlotte, 

Many  thanks  for  your  long  and  copious  letter  of 
the  25th  and  29th  of  January.    It  has  given 

me  especial  pleasure,  and  I  wish,  therefore,  to  give 
15 


228 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


you  in  return  especial  thanks.  Your  writing  expresses 
that  warm  and  trustful  affection  which  I  value  so 
highly,  and  is  composed,  moreover,  in  that  calm  and 
gentle  spirit  which  I  so  earnestly  wish  to  be  yours. 
My  love  for  calmness  and  gentleness  is  not  merely 
a  peculiarity  of  my  disposition,  or  the  natural  conse- 
quence of  my  years,  but  is  founded  on  the  simple 
fact  that  where  it  is  disturbed  the  harmony  of  life 
vanishes.  I  allude  to  that  harmony  of  spirit,  which 
is  the  necessary  condition  and  only  true  foundation 
of  a  happy  life,  and  the  want  of  which,  whether 
caused  by  sorrow,  uneasiness,  or  any  other  mental 
pain,  is  certain  to  be  followed  by  the  same  unhappy 
consequences. 

There  is  a  trace  of  earthliness  in  all  passion,  but 
I  am  yet  far  from  condemning  it  unreservedly,  if  it 
proceed  from  the  depths  of  the  spirit,  and  have  a 
good  cause.  I  may  perhaps  give  the  sunset  view 
of  life ;  but  mine  has  never  been  a  sorrowful  spirit, 
for  it  very  early  became  my  maxim  to  vanquish  all 
my  sorrows  by  strength  of  will,  however  difficult  the 
attempt.  But  let  this  be  as  it  may,  I  consider  tran- 
quillity, and  the  feelings  which  flow  from  it,  as  always 
happier  and  more  beneficent  than  agitation,  whatever 
its  origin ;  and  taking,  as  I  do,  so  deep  ah  interest  in 
your  happiness,  the  disposition  which  your  letters 
express  in  this  respect  is  peculiarly  gratifying. 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


229 


You  have  not  mentioned  in  your  last  letter,  dear 
Charlotte,  whether  it  is  your  intention  to  proceed 
with  your  biography.  I  hope  it  may.  I  repeat  my 
so  often  repeated  wishes  on  this  subject.  I  shall 
read,  whatever  you  may  write  of  it,  with  great  in- 
terest and  lively  pleasure,  but  sincerely  hope  that 
you  will  not  allow  it  to  weary  you,  or  touch  upon 
unpleasant  reminiscences.  You  are  not  quite  right 
in  saying  that  I  commenced  this  correspondence 
with  you  for  the  sake  of  gaining  a  thorough  know- 
ledge of  your  character.  I  always  love  to  occupy 
my  thoughts  with  the  past ;  and  the  recollection  of 
you  as  you  used  to  be,  of  our  early  correspondence 
and  acquaintance,  was  sufficient  reason  for  its  re- 
newal. It  is,  however,  very  certain  that  the  sym- 
pathy and  affections  proceeding  from  our  correspond- 
ence have  been  much  exalted  and  increased  by  the 
openness  with  which  you  have  disclosed  to  me  the 
workings  of  your  spirit  as  well  as  the  chances  of 
your  life.  For  the  manner  in  which  you  have  done 
this  you  have  my  hearty  thanks,  and  you  will  cer- 
tainly continue  to  receive  them  to  the  end.  But  I 
will  also  assert  generally,  that  when  a  man  has 
learned  thoroughly  the  feelings,  thoughts,  and  affec- 
tions of  another,  many  inconsistencies  disappear, 
and  much  which,  viewed  alone,  he  would  condemn, 


230 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


or  strongly  disapprove  of,  becomes  bearable  or  even 
perfectly  blameless. 

You  say  that  you  have  tried  the  water-cure,  but 
not  to  its  full  extent.  This  I  can  well  believe,  for  it 
is  too  terribly  painful,  as  I  have  been  assured,  and 
as  indeed  is  manifest,  to  be  pursued  by  many  people 
to  its  perfection.  It  consists,  you  say,  in  drinking 
water  as  hot  as  it  can  be  borne,  at  very  short  inter- 
vals. I  should  like  to  have  an  exact  account  of  the 
quantity  to  be  drunk,  of  the  length  of  the  intervals, 
and  of  your  sensations  whilst  taking  the  draughts. 
I  have  already  learned  with  sorrow  from  your  letters 
that  its  good  effects  on  the  state  of  your  health  were 
but  temporary.  I  am  convinced  that  it  is  a  very 
effective  mode  of  treatment,  and  have  heard  of  many 
cases  in  which  it  overcame  deeply-seated  maladies. 
But  I  am,  nevertheless,  very  far  from  asserting  that 
it  is  fit  for  every  disease. 

You  remark  that  a  certain  call  is  not  altogether 
incredible.  For  my  own  part  I  have  never  been 
subject  to  this  superstition,  but  I  know  that  it  is 
very  old,  and  generally  received  as  truth.  You  may 
name  me  happy  without  filling  me  with  evil  pre- 
sentiments. I  only  mentioned  that  the  well-known 
superstition  had  occurred  to  my  recollection.  It  is 
founded  on  ideas  which  lie  very  deep.  Boasting, 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


231 


especially  when  a  man  boasts  of  his  own  good  for- 
tune, is  regarded  as  a  sign  of  forgetfulness  of  the 
instability  of  human  affairs,  of  a  disregard  of  modesty 
and  humility.  And  therefore  it  is,  that  the  changes 
from  good  to  bad  fortune,  which  are  of  such  frequent 
occurrence,  are  regarded  by  many  as  punishments; 
and  on  this  account  also  it  is  that  persons  of  timid 
disposition  are  very  anxious  to  conceal,  or  at  least 
to  say  very  little  of  any  good  fortune  which  may 
happen  to  them,  that  they  may  forget  as  much  as 
possible  the  change  which  may  some  day  take  place. 
The  superstitious  dislike  of  congratulation  from 
others  is  founded  on  the  fear  of  envy  and  insincerity, 
or  a  doubt  whether  this  congratulation  may  not  have 
some  malicious  purpose  in  view.  From  such  causes 
it  is  that  congratulation  has  come  to  be  regarded  as 
an  ill  omen,  and  that  talismans  have  been  invented. 
The  whole  must  vanish  before  the  truth  of  religion, 
or  even  common  sense.  He  who  addresses  himself 
from  pure  delight  at  his  own  or  another's  happiness 
with  gratitude  to  its  author,  is  certainly  doing  that 
which  is  well  pleasing  to  God,  and  guards  himself 
thereby  against  any  unhappy  change  of  circum- 
stances in  the  way  of  punishment,  unless,  indeed, 
such  a  change  should  arise  from  the  inscrutable 
designs  of  Providence.    It  is  a  still  nobler  feeling  to 


232 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


rejoice  at  the  happiness  of  another  without  envy, 
and  gratefully  to  receive  our  own  as  an  undeserved 
gift. 

I  learn  from  your  letter  that  you  intended  sending 
me  a  letter  by  to-day's  post ;  but  as  I  cannot  receive 
it  until  after  three  days,  I  think  that  you  would 
rather  that  I  should  not  retain  this  till  then.  I 
should  like  to  hear  something  of  your  occupations. 
You  know  what  an  interest  I  feel  in  all  which  con- 
cerns you,  and  how  much  pleasure  I  take  in  the 
least  details.  Pray  write  to  me  on  the  28th  January. 
Farewell !    With  unchangeable  affection,  yours, 

H. 


LETTER  LVIII. 

Berlin,  March  3,  1826. 

Dear  Charlotte, 

Your  two  letters,  one  of  the  13th  and  another  of 
the  26th  of  last  month,  lie  before  me  awaiting 
an  answer.  You  can  scarcely  imagine  how  much 
the  quiet  and  trustful  tone  of  both,  being,  I  know, 
the  true  expression  of  your  feelings,  has  delighted 
me.  I  have  also  been  very  pleased  to  see  that  your 
health  is  rather  improved.    It  is  a  great  thing  that 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


233 


you  have  formed  a  second  attempt  to  follow  the 
course  of  medicine  which  you  describe  as  not  only 
very  endurable,  but  also  very  successful.  I  have 
known  persons  on  whom  this  hot- water  medicine 
has  acted  so  violently  as  to  compel  them  to  give  it 
up,  causing  with  some  such  a  flow  of  blood  to  the 
head  as  to  make  them  fear  apoplexy.  But,  on  the 
other  hand,  I  have  known  both  men  and  women 
who,  after  having  followed  this  course  of  medicine 
for  some  time,  have  been  quite  cured  of  their  sick- 
ness. I  have  no  particular  reason  in  asking  the 
details  of  its  application,  my  only  reasons  being  the 
interest  which  I  take  in  the  state  of  your  health, 
and  my  curiosity  respecting  a  mode  of  cure  which 
you  mention  so  frequently,  and  respecting  which  I 
have  heard  so  much  zealous  advocacy  and  opposi- 
tion. I  am  perfectly  satisfied  with  the  account 
which  you  give  me  in  your  letters,  for  which  you 
have  my  hearty  thanks.  The  simple  and  regular 
mode  of  life  which  you  now  lead,  and  your  extra- 
ordinary patience,  are  medicines  of  great  efficacy  in 
the  cure  of  diseases.  The  good  effect,  indeed,  of  a 
regular  mode  of  living,  which  can  never  be  disturbed 
without  disturbing  the  corporeal  functions,  is  extra- 
ordinary, and  proves  that  temperance  is  the  best 
panacea.    You  have  been  guilty  of  one  species  of 


234 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


intemperance,  that  of  over  exertion.  And  it  is  with 
a  lively  feeling  of  joy  that  I  find  you  at  length  giving 
yourself  more  leisure  and  some  repose.  The  work 
which  you  have  planned  out  for  yourself  is,  as  you 
rightly  observe,  too  much  for  any  one  person.  To 
work  till  one  or  two  o'clock  at  night,  and  to  begin 
work  again  at  six  in  the  morning,  is  excessive  exer- 
tion. I  generally  work  till  one  o'clock  at  night,  (it 
is  now  near  twelve,)  but  then  I  sleep  till  eight  in 
the  morning,  and  employ  the  hours  just  preceding 
bed-time  in  lighter  studies  —  with  my  letters,  or  the 
arrangement  of  my  pursuits.  For  I  always  devote 
my  mornings  to  those  which  are  most  important  or 
most  difficult.  I  have  been  much  interested  by  your 
account  of  your  pursuits,  so  well  chosen  under  the 
circumstances  which  demanded  an  immediate  de- 
cision, and  their  profits.  It  is  extraordinary  to  find, 
as  I  do  from  the  little  table  which  you  have  drawn 
up,  that  your  receipts  have  tripled  in  the  six  years, 
from  1820  to  1825,  both  years  inclusive.  It  does 
great  honor  to  your  patience  and  activity,  as  well 
as  your  talents  and  skill.  Your  effort  must  now  be 
to  direct  others  rather  than  to  exert  yourself,  other- 
wise you  will  be  in  danger  of  injuring  both  your 
health  and  property.  I  make  it  an  earnest  request 
that  you  will  consider  this  a  most  important  point. 


H UMB OLDT'S  LETTERS. 


235 


It  is  very  kind  and  good  of  you  to  have  reperused 
all  the  letters  which  I  sent  you  during  the  past  year. 
But  I  am  very  sorry  that  you  should  have  paid  any 
further  attention  to  those  which  had  displeased  or 
distressed  you.  This  was  very  unnecessary ;  the 
whole  matter  was  a  simple  misunderstanding,  which 
we  should  now  suffer  to  rest.  Let  it  always  console 
you,  that,  in  respect  to  you,  my  love  and  sympathy  is 
and  ever  will  be  the  same.  Without  reproaching  you, 
I  must  yet  say,  that  your  letters  have  shown  how 
much  and  how  frequently  you  suffered  on  this  ac- 
count, which  greatly  pained  me,  although  very  grati- 
fying as  a  proof  of  friendship.  Always  reckon  on 
my  sympathy,  my  readiness  to  serve  you,  for  caprice 
and  passion  are  as  foreign  to  my  years  as  they  have 
ever  been  to  my  character.  As  I  love  you  now,  I 
shall  love  you  ever.  I  see  with  emotion  that  you 
have  not  yet  ceased  to  grieve  lest  some  of  your 
expressions  should  have  caused  me  pain.  They 
have  not,  and  if  you  wish  to  give  me  a  proof  of  your 
attachment,  let  it  be  that  you  never  mention  such  a 
thing  again.  You  may  be  as  open  with  me  as  you 
please,  I  shall  ever  counsel  you  in  little  as  well  as 
important  matters  to  the  best  of  my  ability,  as  may 
seem  most  conducive  to  your  welfare.  I  make  the 
chief  end  of  our  correspondence  the  free  communi- 


236  HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 

cation  of  our  ideas,  whether  they  agree  or  disagree. 
A  correspondence  is  always  more  perfect  as  it  is  less 
occupied  with  circumstances,  and  more  with  thoughts 
and  feelings.  I  am  however  far  from  pretending  to 
be  always  right,  and  where  I  think  that  I  am,  I  have 
no  wish  that  you  should  think  so,  or  conceal  opposi- 
tion. This  is  the  rule  of  our  connection.  Do  you, 
dear  Charlotte,  be  careful  to  preserve  an  uninterrupted 
confidence,  together  with  that  calmness  which  is  so 
becoming  to  every  age,  and  especially  to  that  of  a 
more  advanced  period  of  life. 

Business  takes  me  to  Silesia  for  a  few  weeks,  I 
cannot  say  exactly  for  how  long.  I  pray  you  there- 
fore to  write  to  me  on  the  26th,  directing  as  usual  to 
Ottmachau,  near  Neise,  in  Upper  Silesia.  Farewell! 
With  the  fullest  affection, 

Yours,  H. 


LETTER  L1X. 

Ottmachau,  April  10,  1826. 

Dear  Charlotte, 

I arrived  here  to-day,  and  found  your  letter,  which 
must  have  awaited  me  some  time.  For,  although 
I  left  Berlin  on  the  29th  of  March,  I  had  to  visit 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


231 


many  places  before  I  could  come  here,  my  last  visit 
being  to  a  relation,  the  playmate  of  my  youth,  now 
a  widow  with  two  children,  of  whom  one  is  married, 
who  occupies  a  large  castle  amongst  the  hills.  Nature 
and  art  have  united  to  render  it  a  beautiful  place,  and 
the  time  that  I  have  been  there  has  passed  very 
pleasantly.  The  weather  here  has  been,  generally, 
as  you  say  it  has  been  in  your  part  of  the  country, 
very  wet  and  stormy,  but  the  last  three  days  have 
been  fine,  and  the  sun  has  shone  to-day  with  a  sum- 
mer warmth.  I  left  my  friend  at  five  o'clock  ;  and 
as  I  passed  out  of  the  deep  valley  in  which  her  castle 
is  situated,  I  watched  the  sun  gradually  rising  until 
his  full  orb  gilded  the  peaks  of  the  remotest  hills. 
This  evening,  however,  is  cloudy,  and  indeed  the 
great  heat  which  we  have  had  is  not  natural  to  the 
season.  During  the  whole  of  last  winter  I  was,  at 
the  most,  but  a  couple  of  days  in  the  country,  and 
feel,  therefore,  my  present  solitude  as  the  greater 
novelty.  I  have  none  of  my  family,  no  one  in  the 
house  with  me  but  a  servant,  who  is,  besides,  far 
from  my  apartments.  All  is  as  still  as  the  grave. 
This  does  not  in  the  least  disturb  me,  for  solitude 
gives  greater  freedom  to  my  thoughts  and  feelings, 
and  I  frequently  stay  up  late  that  I  may  enjoy  the 
solitude  of  midnight  as  well  as  the  loneliness  of  the 
house. 


238 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


I  am  very  well  acquainted  with  young  Rose,  and 
like  him  much :  he  is  diligent,  clever,  and  learned ; 
and  will  be,  I  think,  a  great  man.  I  should  have 
been  very  glad  if  he  had  brought  your  nephew  with 
him  to  pay  me  a  visit.  It  has  ever  been  my  maxim 
that  a  man  should  be  always  accessible,  whatever 
his  age  or  station ;  and,  for  my  own  part,  I  never 
deny  myself  to  any  one.  The  advantage  is  reciprocal 
— a  living  man  is  the  centre  of  many  circumstances 
—  and  we  can  never  tell  how  or  where  they  may 
produce  their  fruits.  And  those  who  are  engaged 
in  important  pursuits,  especially  if  they  be  at  the 
commencement  of  their  career,  have  a  higher  interest 
than  others,  and  we  willingly  enter  with  them  into 
lines  of  thought  and  inquiry  which  are  quite  foreign 
to  our  own  pursuits  or  dispositions  ;  for,  regarded  in 
their  highest  and  most  general  point  of  view,  all 
ideas  are  one ;  and  intercourse  with  persons  of  very 
differently  formed  minds,  if  they  have  reached  any 
of  the  more  advanced  stages  of  development,  is  emi- 
nently refreshing  to  the  soul ;  and  by  mixing  in  life 
with  men  of  all  degrees,  and  thus  gaining  an  exten- 
sive experience,  we  lose  that  narrowness  of  mind 
which  seldom  disappears  by  any  other  means. 

You  are  wrong,  dear  Charlotte,  in  saying  that  the 
tone  of  my  letters  is  too  courteous  and  precise.  This 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


239 


is  by  no  means  my  feeling ;  and  I  think  my  last  letter 
is  sufficient  proof  that  I  make  no  hesitation  of  ex- 
pressing opinions  different  from  yours.  It  must  be 
manifest  to  you  that  I  wish  to  test  your  sentiments 
and  ideas.  It  frequently  happens  that  after  such  a 
test  I  find  our  thoughts  similar,  and  I  am  always 
anxious  to  express  such  agreement,  because  I  not 
only  think,  but  know  that  it  gives  you  pleasure.  The 
form  of  our  correspondence  is  at  least  free  from  all 
the  restraints  of  flattery  and  intention ;  but  a  wish 
naturally  clothes  itself  in  the  shape  of  a  request,  and 
disagreements  smooth  down  their  abruptness  and 
ruggedness.  And  this  is  very  natural  in  an  inter- 
course which  is  founded  on  a  similarity  of  disposition. 
The  sincere  and  hearty  sympathy,  dear  Charlotte, 
which  I  take  in  you  and  all  that  concerns  you,  is 
sufficient  security  that  I  shall  use  very  cordial  ex- 
pressions, destructive  of  the  coldness  of  politeness 
—  a  coldness  which  I  detest  from  the  bottom  of  my 
heart,  and  only  practice  in  business  transactions  and 
the  polite  circles.  Out  of  these  positions,  for  which 
it  is  very  proper,  I  never  endure  such  formal  polite- 
ness, which  is  so  sure  a  sign  of  something  defective, 
something  rotten.  But  I  go  further  than  most  men 
in  that  kind  of  politeness  which  sacrifices  neither 
trustfulness  nor  cordiality.    It  is  inborn  in  me  ;  and 


240 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


a  person  who  should  see  me  with  iny  daughters 
could  scarcely  judge,  except  from  my  use  of  the  word 
"thou,"  that  I  was  their  father.  And  this  proceeds 
neither  from  a  want  of  affection  nor  from  any  other 
reason  that  I  know,  but  simply  from  an  inability  to 
do  otherwise. 

I  will  now  conclude.  I  cannot  tell  you  at  the 
moment  how  to  direct  your  next  letter.  I  shall 
remain  here  too  short  a  time  to  receive  another  letter 
from  you,  and  am  grieved  to  think  how  long  it  will 
be  before  I  can  hear  from  you.  I  should  like  you  to 
have  a  letter  written,  to  send  as  soon  as  I  write  to 
you  again,  which  will  be  on  my  arrival  at  Berlin,  or 
perhaps  earlier.    With  the  most  hearty  sympathy, 

Yours,  H. 


LETTER  LX. 

Glogau,  May  9,  1826. 

Dear  Charlotte, 

My  journey  has  been  longer  than  I  intended,  but 
I  am  now  on  my  return  to  Berlin,  and  write 
to  you  from  hence,  where  I  have  arrived  earlier  than 
I  had  expected,  and  where  I  intend  passing  the  night. 
It  is  very  long  since  I  received  a  letter  from  you,  and  I 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


241 


have  been  much  grieved  at  not  being  able  to  name  any 
place  where  I  should  have  been  certain  to  find  your 
letters.  I  have  been  constantly  changing  the  place 
of  my  abode,  except  for  the  two  weeks  which  I  spent 
at  Ottmachau,  and  which  I  could  not  foresee,  as  my 
business  only  compelled  me  to  linger  day  by  day. 
Pray,  dear  Charlotte,  write  to  me  on  the  23d  of  this 
month,  directing  to  Berlin  as  usual,  that  I  may  receive 
the  letter  immediately  on  my  arrival.  I  hope  that  our 
correspondence  may  never  meet  with  such  another 
interruption,  for  I  am  always  pained  when  I  do  not 
hear  from  you  frequently.  I  fear  that  this  cold  and 
cheerless  weather  must  be  very  bad  for  your  health. 
It  has  been  here,  I  mean  in  Silesia,  very  rough  and 
unseasonable.  I  hear  similar  complaints  from  per- 
sons residing  at  Berlin  ;  but  there  has  been  a  change 
for  the  better  during  the  last  three  or  four  days,  and 
to-day  I  have  had  a  pleasant  sunshine  during  my 
whole  journey  from  morn  till  sunset.  Heaven  and 
earth  were  in  wonderful  contrast.  The  air  was 
perfectly  still,  and  the  blue  heavens  speckled  with 
clouds,  which  ever  and  anon  obscured  the  sun  for  an 
instant,  and  then  passed  away.  The  earth  had  no 
such  pleasant  aspect.  My  journey  lay  across  the 
Oder,  and  I  travelled  for  an  hour  along  its  banks, 
which,  indeed,  I  have  but  just  left.    Yesterday  and 


242 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


the  day  before,  the  stream  rose  uncommonly  high, 
fields  were  overflowed,  villages  flooded,  and  all  people 
in  a  state  of  great  excitement,  preparing  dams  and 
all  sorts  of  defences  against  the  water.  It  was  a 
misfortune  which  could  not  have  been  expected,  as 
the  surface  of  the  river,  except  in  the  very  current 
itself,  was  perfectly  placid.  The  bushes  appearing 
above  the  water  made  a  very  curious  sight.  There 
has  not  been  so  great  a  flood  since  the  year  1813  as 
this,  which  has  been  produced,  it  is  most  probable,  by 
the  sudden  thawing,  during  the  late  warm  weather, 
of  the  excessive  quantity  of  sdow  which  collected  on 
the  hills  during  the  last  unusually  severe  winter. 

It  is  in  this  way,  at  least,  that  people  generally 
account  for  this  sudden  and  extraordinary  flood,  of 
which  you  will  doubtless  have  heard  from  the  papers. 
Although  it  occurs  to  me  as  I  write,  dear  Charlotte, 
that  it  is  very  likely  that  you  never  see  the  papers. 
I  am  the  more  ready  to  think  this,  as  1  so  seldom 
see  them  myself,  not  having  seen  one  since  the  29th 
of  March,  when  I  happened  to  meet  with  a  couple. 
Both  my  domestic  and  mental  life  go  on  very  well, 
without  demanding  that  I  should  concern  myself 
with  the  affairs  of  the  world.  We  are  sure  to  learn 
great  events  without  reading  the  papers,  and  it  wears 
out  both  my  patience  and  interest  to  collect  every 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


243 


little  piece  of  news,  to  trace  every  event  through  its 
successive  developments,  to  wade  through  all  the 
occurrences  of  a  month.  In  the  affairs  and  occur- 
rences which  concern  whole  states,  we  may  still 
trace  the  peculiar  importance  which  belongs  to  the 
activity,  the  spirit,  and  the  sentiments  of  individuals. 
Man  is  especially  the  middle  point  of  the  whole,  and 
every  man  remains  alone  to  the  end,  so  that,  that 
only  which  was  in  him,  and  proceeds  from  him,  exer- 
cises any  weight  upon  him.  However  many  com- 
panions a  man  may  have  in  the  active  sympathizing 
world,  he  must  ever  make  the  journey  which  leads 
across  the  boundaries  of  earthly  things  alone ;  no 
one  may  accompany  him.  But  there  is  in  all  men 
a  feeling  that  we  shall  find  in  another  world  those 
who  shall  die  before,  and  after  ourselves.  No  man 
of  feeling  can  yield  this  sentiment,  this  belief,  without 
giving  up  a  source  of  much  pure  and  exalted  pleasure, 
which  is  sanctified  by  Holy  Writ.  We  may  indeed 
find  it  expressed  in  some  passages  as  a  truth  strictly 
pertaining  to  the  comforting  doctrines  of  Christianity. 
But  that  makes  no  difference  in  what  I  before  said. 
I  believe,  that  is,  that  here  upon  earth,  all  which  has 
any  connection  with  other  institutions,  is  only  so  far 
of  any  advantage  to  man  as  it  affects  him  individually. 

AH  advancement  in  respect  to  education,  all  improve- 
16 


244 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


irient  in  public  affairs,  the  reformation  of  states,  and 
of  the  world  at  large,  is  but  an  idea,  till  it  shows  its 
power  upon  individuals.  And  uniformly,  in  the  very- 
greatest  events  which  present  themselves  to  my 
notice,  I  ever  measure  their  importance  by  the  influ- 
ence which  they  may  exercise  upon  men's  personal 
and  individual  condition. 

The  only  result  of  the  generality  of  the  circum- 
stances is,  that  they  effect  much,  or  affect  many  ;  and 
of  their  vastness,  that  they  set  in  motion  extraordi- 
nary powers.  In  this  way  it  is  that  the  individual 
life  is  connected  with  the  life  of  the  world.  That 
which  one  may  find  in  this  or  that  private  man,  may 
be  found  in  every  man,  only  proceeding  from  other 
sources,  and  directed  to  other  ends.  The  stage  only 
is  different,  the  drama  and  the  scenery  are  the  same. 
By  viewing  them  in  this  manner,  public  events  have 
for  me  a  higher  and  more  lively  interest.  But  this 
is  a  mode  of  viewing  them  seldom  or  never  practiced 
in  the  newspapers.  With  respect  to  re-union  of 
friends  after  death,  I  may  mention  a  very  touching 
verse  which  I  met  with  in  a  country  churchyard  a 
few  days  since :  — A  woman,  who  had  been  both  a 
mother  and  grandmother,  was  represented  as  praying 
with  and  for  her  children  and  grandchildren  ;  and  her 
prayer  concluded  with  the  words :  — 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


245 


"Preserve  them,  God,  from  every  pain, 
That  we  may  meet  in  peace  again." 

An  expression  which  is  exceedingly  naive  and 
touching,  and  which,  as  it  is  most  probably  from 
some  old  hymn-book,  so  much  more  beautiful  than 
the  modern,  you  have  doubtless  heard  already.  I 
have  a  great  affection  for  grave-yards,  and  willingly 
never  pass  one  without  visiting  it.  I  am  especially 
fond  of  those  which  are  planted  with  large  old  trees, 
and  even  one  such  is  a  great  charm.  The  sight  of 
the  fresh  blooming  life  unites  so  beautifully  with  the 
thought  of  the  dead  slumbering  beneath.  The  most 
beautiful  churchyard  of  this  kind  which  I  have  seen, 
was  one  in  Königsberg,  in  Prussia,  in  which  there  are 
long  avenues  of  large  and  beautiful  lime-trees.  I 
passed  part  of  the  year  1809  in  Königsberg,  and 
spent  a  lovely  summer  afternoon  in  wandering  about 
this  cemetery.  The  burial-ground  at  Rome  for 
strangers  who  are  not  Catholics,  also,  is  very  pretty, 
being  further  adorned  with  an  ancient  pyramid  and 
tomb,  which  happen  to  be  within  its  enclosures. 

I  shall  remain  but  a  short  time  at  Berlin,  being 
anxious  to  get  to  Tegel,  partly  because  I  love  the 
place  and  its  neighborhood,  and  partly  on  account  of 
its  unbroken  solitude.  One  can  do  but  little  on  a 
journey,  and  while  changing  one's  residence.  Our 


246 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


occupations,  then,  are  peculiarly  adverse  to  literary 
employments.  Farewell!  With  hearty  sympathy 
and  unchangeable  affection, 

Yours,  H. 


LETTER  LXI. 

Berlin. 

I have  been  very  well,  but  very  busy,  and  have 
at  length  brought  to  a  conclusion  a  work  which 
has  occupied  me  for  years.  I  have  already  laid 
down  my  plans  for  the  future,  but  will  now  devote 
to  you  the  first  leisure  time  which  I  have  had  for 
years. 

The  weather  is  singularly  beautiful  for  our  north- 
ern clime ;  it  has  a  heathful  influence  on  mind  and 
body,  and  inclines  the  soul  to  contemplation.  It  is 
a  very  enviable  privilege  of  southern  climes,  that 
there  men  ever  enjoy  a  genial  atmosphere,  but  in 
other  respects,  perhaps,  it  is  not  so  advantageous, 
and  must  even  be,  I  think,  hurtful  to  the  mind.  For 
being  free,  as  they  are,  from  the  unpleasantness  of 
winter,  they  want  also  the  pure  pleasure  which  we 
experience  on  the  return  of  spring.  It  naturally 
affects  the  soul ;  and  if  a  man  can  bring  himself  to 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


24T 


believe,  as  I  do,  that  every  deeply-seated  feeling 
has  its  origin  in  the  impressions  of  visible  nature  on 
our  spirits,  he  must  then  think  also  that  feelings  and 
sentiments  cannot  strike  root  so  deeply  in  the  hearts 
of  southern  people  as  in  ours,  who  every  year  behold 
the  fresh  and  glowing  form  of  nature  spring  from 
the  dull  rigidity  of  winter.  And  this,  most  probably, 
is  the  cause  of  the  deep  contrasts,  the  masses  of 
shade,  the  masses  of  light,  which  are  the  peculiar 
features  of  our  poetry,  of  that  earnestness  and  depth 
of  feeling  which  ever  live  in  this  obscurity,  in  this 
tendency  to  flee  from  the  light  of  outward  nature  to 
the  privacy  and  solitude  of  the  inward  soul.  The 
strength  of  feeling  and  passion,  which  in  the  poetry 
of  other  lands  burn  as  living  fire,  in  ours  are  a  fire 
also,  but  a  fire  which  rather  smoulders  than  flames, 
and  effects  great  purposes  slowly.  These  feelings 
are  fed  by  the  more  earnest  longings,  with  which 
we  are  led  by  the  comparative  harshness  of  our 
clime,  to  look  forward  to  that  paradise  which  is  pro- 
mised to  us  as  a  more  enduring  abode  than  the  one 
which  we  now  inhabit.  And  thence  proceeds  another 
great  longing  which  few  men  are  without,  and  which 
is  especially  strong  in  men  who  think  much  and 
deeply.  For  however  much  we  may  love  this  earth, 
and  totally  ignorant  as  we  are  of  the  appearance  of 


248 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


the  other  worlds  of  the  creation,  we  cannot  help  feel- 
ing that  nature  must,  in  those  worlds,  be  fairer  and 
more  richly  endowed  than  she  is  with  us.  With 
this  may  be  connected  the  feeling  that  we  would  not 
willingly  leave  our  present  abode  for  another.  We 
may  there,  indeed,  find  a  compensation  for  things  of 
which  we  must  be  deprived  by  death,  but  in  this  is 
implied  the  confession  that  we  have  loved  that 
which  is  less  beautiful,  or,  at  least,  valued  it  equally 
with  that  which  is  of  a  higher  nature,  and  cannot 
for  the  moment  separate  our  desires  from  that  which 
is  the  lower.  This  is  common  to  both  the  German 
and  English  poets,  and  has  the  same  origin  in  either. 
It  is  similar,  to  compare  great  things  with  small, 
to  the  longing  after  a  more  intellectual  existence 
which  is  common  to  all  noble  spirits,  although  they 
would  not  be  willing  to  resign  life  at  any  particular 
moment. 

One-sidedness  is  altogether  relative,  and  we  have 
reason  to  fear  its  influence  over  a  man  who  seeks  to 
direct  his  attention  to  too  great  a  multitude  of 
objects.  But  women  are  so  fortunate,  we  may  truly 
say  fortunate,  as  to  be  able  to  remain  strange  to 
many  things.  They  are  for  the  most  part  gainers 
thereby,  since  they  thus  contract  the  circle  of  their 
sentiments,  so  as  to  give  them  greater  depth,  and 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


249 


thus  one-sidedness  is  not  with  them  so  injurious  as 
with  men.  I  remember  two  women  of  my  acquaint- 
ance, who  avoided  as  far  as  possible  entering  into 
society,  and  remained  in  such  retirement,  not  on 
account  of  any  unhappiness,  but  from  simple  in- 
clination, so  that  it  was  with  the  greatest  unwilling- 
ness that  they  entered  into  the  company  of  a  single 
stranger;  and  certainly  they  lost  none  of  their  in- 
terest by  this  reserve. 

You  allude  with  sorrow  to  many  vices  in  their 
relations  and  consequences,  and  desire  my  opinion 
on  the  subject.  I  acknowledge  that  I  neither  admire 
nor  approve  of  that  notion,  according  to  which 
morality  is  split  into  a  certain  number  of  virtues, 
which  are  opposed  to  the  same  number  of  vices. 
Such  a  system  appears  to  me  false  and  unnatural. 

I  cannot  say  whether  I  hate  most  the  proud,  the 
avaricious,  the  extravagant,  or  the  voluptuous.  It 
all  depends  on  individual  circumstances.  In  judging 
men,  I  always  look  to  their  dispositions  as  the 
groundwork  of  all  their  thoughts,  determinations, 
and  actions.  As  this  may  be  good  or  evil,  noble  or 
ignoble,  I  make  my  decision.  If  two  or  three  men 
have,  in  the  same  degree,  ignoble,  selfish,  low  dis- 
positions, it  matters  little  in  what  particular  view 
these  qualities  may  find  expression.    One  vice  may 


250 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


be  more  inconvenient  or  injurious  than  another,  but 
they  are  all  of  them  equally  bad  and  pitiful.  It  is 
the  same  with  virtues.  One  man  may  be  entirely 
free  from  immorality,  and  possess  many  good  quali- 
ties, whilst  another  may  err  in  many  points,  as,  for 
example,  in  being  proud,  or  of  a  violent  temper ;  but 
I  should  yet,  if  the  latter  had  the  nobler  disposition, 
very  much  prefer  him  to  the  former.  Two  points, 
however,  have  to  be  considered ;  that  is,  the  idea 
according  to  which,  and  from  which,  the  individual 
becomes  good,  and  that  power  of  the  will  through 
which  he  confirms  this  idea  against  the  freedom  or 
the  passions  of  his  nature.  Pitiful  men  are  those 
who  have  no  power  over  themselves,  who,  when 
they  continue  virtuous,  continue  so  from  low  motives, 
from  a  regard  for  their  happiness  and  ease,  from  a 
dread  of  the  stings  of  conscience  and  future  punish- 
ment. It  is  certainly  very  good  and  useful  that  men 
should  be  preserved  from  sin  even  by  such  consider- 
ations as  these,  but  we  cannot  regard  such  dispo- 
sitions with  pleasure.  That  spirit  only  is  noble 
which  acts  virtuously  for  virtue's  sake,  from  a  feel- 
ing of  duty,  from  a  conviction  of  her  exalted  worth, 
from  a  true  perception  of  her  unequalled  beauty. 
Such  motives  as  these  alone  prove  a  disposition 
great  and  noble,  and  have  a  beneficial  influence  on 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


251 


the  disposition  itself.  And  if,  as  is  ever  the  case 
with  truly  amiable  spirits,  religion  is  one  of  them, 
their  good  effects  are  twofold.  Religion  cannot 
either  be  gained  or  understood  in  its  true  great- 
ness by  low  minds.  He  who  serves  God  from  selfish 
motives  only,  for  the  sake  of  his  protection,  help,  or 
blessing;  or  that  he  may  be  at  liberty  to  require 
Him  to  trouble  himself  about  every  single  circum- 
stance of  his  life,  again  makes  himself  the  centre 
point  of  all.  But  he  who,  imbued  with  a  deep  sense 
of  the  great  and  fatherly  goodness  of  God,  regards 
Him  with  unspeakable  admiration  and  gratitude,  he 
who  dismisses  from  his  mind  everything  inconsistent 
with  the  thought  that  the  demands  of  duty  and 
virtue  are  for  the  furtherance  of  the  Divine  will,  for 
the  furtherance  of  the  plans  which  God  has  laid 
down  for  the  government  of  the  world,  he  has  a 
truly  religious  and  virtuous  spirit. 

Farewell!  With  unchangeable,  ever  sympathizing 
affection, 

Yours,  H. 


252 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


LETTER  LXII. 

Tegel,  September  10,  1826. 

Dear  Charlotte, 

I have  received  with  great  pleasure  your  letter, 
and  the  continuation  of  your  biography.  Short 
as  they  are,  they  treat  of  a  most  eventful  period,  and 
I  have  read  them  with  much  interest. 

You  have  before  told  me,  that  when  we  first  be- 
came acquainted  at  Pyrmont,  you  were  already 
secretly  betrothed.  This  greatly  surprised  me,  as  I 
had  not  the  least  suspicion  of  such  a  thing.  The 
circumstances  of  your  union  were  very  remarkable. 
In  spite  of  what  we  think  or  say,  it  appears,  as  you 
rightly  remark,  that  an  eternal  fate,  which  none  may 
oppose,  determines  our  individual  destiny.  I  am 
quite  of  your  opinion  that  it  is  by  no  means  certain 
that  that  providence,  which  is  commonly  called  good 
and  bad  fortune,  is  worthy  of  much  consideration. 
The  less  happy  our  outward  lot,  the  more  comforting 
and  exalting  it  is  to  think  ourselves  worthy  of  a 
higher  species  of  cultivation.  In  such  fortunes  as 
yours,  the  hand  of  fate  is  wonderfully  manifest.  To 
many  actions  we  are  hurried  on  by  some  inward  in- 
comprehensible impulse,  and  so  far  from  being  in- 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


253 


fluenced  with  respect  to  them  by  outward  circum- 
stances, we  feel  that  it  would  be  better  if  others 
would  assist  us  to  avoid  that  end  towards  which  we 
feel  thus  irresistibly  drawn.  You  did  little  in  reality 
to  involve  yourself  in  this  fate :  you  simply,  out  of 
love  to  your  friend,  resigned  yourself  to  its  dispen- 
sation. It  is  very  frequently  the  case  that  persons 
who  do  not  love,  or  who  may  even  dislike  each 
other,  are  married,  for  reasons  and  on  account  of 
feelings  which  should  never  be  allowed  to  take  part 
in  such  a  matter,  however  innocent  they  may  be  in 
themselves.  Such  marriages  are  to  me,  indeed, 
almost  incomprehensible,  for  I  cannot,  for  a  single 
instant,  entertain  the  idea  of  marrying  any  person 
whom  I  did  not  at  the  time  feel  to  be  the  only 
person  with  whom  I  could  enter  into  such  a  con- 
nection. I  cannot,  for  a  single  instant,  entertain 
the  idea  of  marrying  a  woman  for  whom  I  felt  only 
respect  and  friendship,  and  not  those  profound, 
ardent  sentiments,  which  are  commonly  called  love. 
It  is  only  in  marriages  sanctified  by  these  higher 
feelings  that  the  affections  remain  unto  the  grave 
the  same  as  they  were  at  first. 

It  is,  however,  a  very  good  thing  that  all  people 
have  not  the  same  views.  Did  they  think  as  I  do, 
there  could  be  very  few  marriages  at  all ;  whereas 


254 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


many  are  happy  which  were  at  first  marked  by  cold- 
ness and  indifference.  In  respect  to  yours,  it  is  very 
manifest  that  you  were  influenced  by  your  love  for 
your  friend,  by  the  best  feelings  of  the  human  heart ; 
and  that  the  best,  the  noblest,  and  most  unselfish 
feelings  may  lead  to  the  most  unhappy  results.  It 
is  as  if  by  some  lofty  and  wise  dispensation  the  out- 
ward fates  were  brought  into  conflict  with  the  inner 
sentiments,  in  order  that  the  latter  might  receive  a 
higher  worth,  shine  in  sublimer  purity,  and  become, 
by  privation  and  suffering,  dearer  to  him  who  is  so 
happy  as  to  possess  them.  However  benevolent 
the  government  of  Providence  may  be,  its  benefi- 
cence cannot  be  always  and  uniformly  exhibited  in 
the  prosperity  of  particular  men.  It  has  ever  a 
higher  end,  and  operates  rather  upon  the  inner  senti- 
ments and  feelings  of  our  nature. 

The  account  of  the  ghostly  warning  which  you 
give  is  very  wonderful.  You  received  it,  you  say, 
when  you  first  gave  your  consent  to  the  marriage 
which  caused  you  so  much  sorrow.  And  even  more 
wonderful  was  the  intimation  of  your  mother's  death 
at  the  same  moment. 

It  is  impossible  to  deny  that  you  did,  indeed,  hear 
some  voice.  And  it  is  quite  as  certain,  from  the 
total  solitude  and  loneliness  of  your  situation  at  the 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


255 


time,  that  it  was  the  voice  of  no  living  being.  It 
was  a  voice  which  sounded  within  your  own  spirit, 
although  you  seemed  to  hear  it  with  your  outward 
ears.  There  are  many  who  would  pronounce  it  only 
a  deception  of  the  imagination ;  who  think  that  those 
appearances  which  are  generally  thought  supernatu- 
ral are  simply  the  result  of  natural  causes.  Such 
persons  will  admit  of  no  connection  between  the 
spiritual  and  material  world,  and  believe  that  he 
who  has  seen  anything  of  the  kind  has  only  been 
affected  by  his  fancy,  or  the  state  of  his  blood.  That 
this  may  sometimes  be  the  case  I  will  not  deny,  but 
I  will  not  allow  that  it  has  never  been  otherwise 
with  some  men  in  some  situations.  You  observe 
that  you  have  become  more  and  more  convinced  of 
the  truth  of  the  opinion  expressed  by  Jung-Stilling 
in  his  theory  of  Ghosts,  (a  work  which  I  have  not 
read,)  that  those  of  our  friends  who  have  gone  be- 
fore, still  feeling  for  us  an  earnest  love,  are  eager  to 
protect  us,  and  having  then  a  clearer  vision  than 
we,  are  anxious  to  make  their  presence  known  to 
us,  in  order  to  render  their  warning,  in  important 
and  remarkable  circumstances,  more  deeply  felt.  All 
this  merely  shows  that  they  would  re-enter  into 
relation  with  us,  while  this  itself  must  plainly  de- 
pend on  the  freedom  of  our  spiritual  perceptions 


2f>G 


H I  M  B  0  L  UT  S   I  ti  T  TER  S. 


from  the  outward  senses.  In  this  state  of  freedom, 
to  which  no  one  can  attain  by  his  own  mere  will, 
you  may  probably  believe  yourself  to  have  been, 
when,  raised  above  all  ordinary  considerations,  you 
wrote  down  your  resolves.  Your  remarks  are  pro- 
found and  feeling. 

There  is,  doubtless,  a  still,  secret,  unearthly  circle 
of  existence  perpetually  surrounding  us,  although 
imperceptible  and  invisible ;  and  why  should  not 
the  veil  be  raised  for  an  instant,  and  that  become 
visible  which  has  no  trace  in  earthly  life  ?  Such 
was  the  case  with  you  the  moment  when  you  wrote 
down  that  determination  which  was  to  cause  you  so 
much  unhappiness :  you  were  warned  by  the  voice 
of  one  who  was  soon  to  be  no  more,  and  at  the 
moment  which  was  so  remarkably  signified  by  the 
fact  that  your  mother  died  at  the  same  time  one 
week  after.  This  was  certainly  a  supernatural  oc- 
currence. It  was  one  of  those  omens,  which  some- 
times, though  rarely,  occur — one  of  those  indications 
of  a  world  from  which  our  ordinary  life  is  separated 
by  an  impassable  gulf.  I  thank  you  heartily  that 
you  have  not  omitted  to  state  this  circumstance. 

It  is  very  manifest  that  you  have  been  too  anxious 
to  satisfy  your  obligations.  Although  I  honor  your 
endurance  very  much,  it  at  the  same  time  causes 


HUMBOLDT'S  LETTERS. 


251 


me  much  sorrow ;  and  I  would  willingly  assist  you 
to  obtain  that  repose  which  I  entreat  you  to  take. 
Pray  deny  yourself  no  longer  that  rest  of  which  you 
stand  in  so  much  need.  I  greatly  fear  that  you  will 
not  be  able  to  proceed  in  your  undertaking  much 
farther.  To  do  so  would  need  a  more  business-like 
spirit  than  yours ;  one  of  younger  years,  and  younger 
in  strength.  It  is  surely  better  to  allow  it  to  remain 
within  its  present  confined  circle.  For  to-day,  dear- 
est Charlotte,  adieu! 

With  unchangeable  sympathy  and  affection,  yours, 

E. 


THE  END. 


DECEMBER,  1863. 


NEW  PUBLICATIONS, 

BY 

FREDERICK  LEYPOLDT, 

1323  CHESTNUT  STREET,  PHILADELPHIA. 


NEW  YORK: 
F.  W.  CHRISTERN,  763  Broadway. 

BOSTON:  A.  K.  LORING,  319  Washington  Street,  and 
S.  URBINO,  13  School  Street. 
CINCINNATI:  ROBERT  CLARKE  &  CO.,  55  W.  Fourth  Street. 
BALTIMORE:  JAS.  S.  WATERS. 


NEW  ILLUSTRATED  WORKS. 


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Illustrations  to  Dante's  "Inferno."  By  Gustave  Dore. 
Portfolio.    First  and  Second  Series.    Price,  each,  $5. 

Le  Juif  Errant.    Thirteen  Photographs 

of  Gustave  Dore's  Illustrations  of  "The  Wandering 
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from  Gustave  Dore's  Illustrations  of  Chateaubriand's 
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With  six  Photographs  of  the  Illustrations  by  Gustave 
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NEW  PUBLICATIONS 

BY 

FREDERICK  LEYPOLDT, 

No.  1323  Chestnut  St,  Philadelphia. 

The  Ice-Maiden,  and  other  Tales.  By 

Hans  Christian  Andersen.     Translated  from  the 

German  by  Miss    Fanny  Fuller.      1  vol.  16mo. 

Printed  on  tinted  paper.    Cloth.    Price,  75  cts. 

"Probably  no  writer  of  stories  for  tbe  young  ever  equalled  Hans 
Christian  Andersen.  Certainly  none  ever  succeeded  as  he  has  done  in  re- 
producing the  nameless  charm  of  the  real  fairy-tale  which  springs  up 
without  an  author  among  the  people, — the  best  specimens  of  which  are 
the  stories  collected  by  the  Brothers  Grimm,  in  Germany.  . . .  Swiss  life 
(in  '  The  Ice-Maiden')  is  depicted  as  though  we  were  listening  to  jodle 
songs  on  the  mountains  and  felt  the  superstitions  »f  the  icy  winter 
nights  taking  hold  of  our  souls.  ...  'The  Psyche'  is  an  art-story.  Most 
writers  would  have  made  it  a  legend  of  'high'  art ;  but  it  is  far  sweeter  and 
more  impressive  from  the  sad  simplicity  and  gentleness  with  which  it 
is  here  told.  'The  Butterfly,'  on  the  contrary,  is  a  delightful  little 
burlesque  on  flirtations  and  fops ;  and  '  The  Snail  and  the  Rose-Tree' 
is  much  like  it.  Both  are  really  fables  of  the  highest  order,  or  shrewd 
prose  epigrams.  ...  The  spirit  of  the  original  is  charmingly  preserved;  and 
Miss  Fuller  has  the  rare  gift  of  using  short  and  simple  words, — which 
are  the  best  in  the  world  when  one  knows  how  to  use  them  as  she  does." 
—Continental  Monthly. 

"  A  new  work  by  Hans  Christian  Andersen,  well  translated,  must  be 
acceptable  to  persons  of  all  ages.  His  stories  are  among  the  household 
treasures  of  the  world.  His  latest  work  ('  The  Ice-Maiden,  and  other 
Tales')  has  just  been  so  well  translated  into  English  by  Miss  Fanny 
Fuller  that  it  reads  as  if  it  had  originally  been  written  in  our  language. 
Altogether,  it  has  its  author's  leading  characteristics, — invention,  grace, 
and  sustained  interest." — Press. 

"What  Shakspeare  is  in  poetry  and  the  drama,  Hans  Christian 
Andersen  is  in  children's  stories, — the  '  myriad-minded'  master  of  fair y- 
land.  The  latest  growth  of  his  prolific  mind  is  a  little  knot  of  divers- 
colored  blossoms,  four  in  all  ('  The  Ice-Maiden,'  etc.).  The  first-named 
is  the  longest, — a  pretty  historiette,  brim-full  of  the  daintiest  poetry :  the 
other  three  are  short  fantastic  anecdotes,  as  it  were,  of  art  and  nature ; 
but,  short  as  they  are,  they  are  radiant  with  the  genius  of  Andersen. 
Tbe  volume  is  charmingly  got  up,"  etc.—  World. 

I 


New  Publications. 


"We  have  received  'The  Ice-Maiden,  and  other  Tales,'  an  exquisiti 
little  volume.  The  principal  tale  is  located  in  Switzerland;  and  the 
simple  life  and  manners,  the  superstitions,  and  beautiful  and  grand 
aspects  of  nature,  about  the  Oberland  Alps,  the  Gemini  pass,  and  the 
Rhine  valley,  are  wrought  into  a  picturesque  and  touching  story,  with  all 
that  imaginative  charm  peculiar  to  this  Danish  prince  of  story-tellers." — 
D-ivight's  Journal  of  Music. 

"A  dainty  volume,  truly,  is  this  'Ice-Maiden,  and  other  Tales,'  and 
published  in  the  best  taste,  with  its  clear  print,  red-edged  leaves,  parti- 
colored title-page,  and  choice  binding.  It  is  a  gem  in  gem-like  setting. 
Four  real  stories  from  the  fancy-dropping  pen  of  the  charming  Danish 
tale-teller  will  send  a  ray  of  sunshine  into  many  a  young  heart;  and  all 
of  the  elders  who  have  a  heart  will  enjoy  it." — New  Yorker. 

';  If  you  want  a  book  for  young  people  winning  to  the  eye  and  nourish- 
ing to  the  mind, — pure,  delicate,  and  replete  at  once  with  fanciful  and 
romantic  interest, — get '  The  Ice-Maiden,  and  other  Tales.' " — Albion. 

"  In  the  elegant  little  volume  before  us  we  have  translations  of  four 
of  the  best  of  Andersen's  stories.  The  version  has  been  made  with  rare 
skill.  The  paper  and  binding  of  the  volume  are  superb.  Its  clear 
typography  and  illuminated  title  feast  the  eye,  and  do  honor  to  Ameri- 
can enterprise  and  art." — Cincinnati  Gazette. 

"The  translation  is  so  admirable  that,  without  losing  any  of  the 
author's  literal  truth,  it  reads  like  an  original  English  book." — Pub- 
lishers' Circular. 

"The  'Ice-Maiden'  is  one  of  the  most  beautiful  stories  we  have  ever 
read;  and  the  others  are  full  of  delicacy  and  originality.  The  book 
should  be  placed  in  the  hands  of  every  one." — City  Item. 

"  A  most  agreeable  writer  is  the  imaginative  author,  with  his  rich 
fancy,  graceful  6tyle,  and  true  moral  tone.  '  The  Ice-Maiden,'  « Psyche,' 
etc.,  are  legends,  myth-histories  of  the  Alps,  whose  people's  ideas  receive 
inspiration  from  the  grand  old  scenery  by  which  they  are  surrounded. 
Probably  some  of  the  attractions  of  the  beautiful  little  volume  may 
be  due  to  the  facility  of  the  translator  and  the  elegance  of  the  me- 
chanical execution." — Worcester  Palladium. 

"  We  have  a  fresh  collection  of  Andersen's  delightful  Tales,  entitled 
'  The  Ice-Maiden,'  etc.  They  are  delicate  and  subtle  in  conception,  and 
sometimes  try  the  ingenuity  of  the  reader  who  seeks  the  deeper  meaning 
under  the  charming  exterior.  A  meaning  there  is,  which  conveys  whole- 
some truths,  and  very  often  within  easy  grasp.  Andersen  is  the  princ* 
of  moral  writers  for  the  young  in  our  day." — Presbyterian 
2 


New  Publications. 


Life  of  Chopin.  By  F.  Liszt.  Trans- 
lated from  the  French  by  Mrs.  Martha  Walker  Cook. 
1  vol.  lömo.  Printed  on  tinted  paper.  With  a  Photo- 
graph.   Cloth.  Price,  $1.00. 

"Tho  lovers  of  musical  art  may  justly  be  congratulated  on  the  ap- 
pearance of  this  extraordinary  biographical  study  in  an  appropriate 
English  dress.  It  is  the  enthusiastic  tribute  of  a  man  of  noble  genius 
to  a  kindred  spirit  whose  mastership  he  acknowledged,  and  with  whom 
he  cherished  a  deep  and  tender  friendship,  beyond  the  vitiating  touch 
of  personal  or  artistic  rivalry.  The  volume,  indeed,  affords  a  no  less 
admirable  illustration  of  the  impulsive,  generous,  unworldly  character 
of  tho  author  than  of  the  rare  and  wonderful  gifts  of  its  unique  sub- 
ject. It  is  the  product  of  the  heart  rather  than  the  head,  and  its  fre- 
quent passages  of  childlike  naivete,  its  transparent  revelations  of  tho 
inmost  soul  of  the  writer,  and  the  radiant  atmosphere  of  spiritual 
beauty  in  which  thoughts  and  images  are  melted  together  with  a 
magic  spell,  transport  it  from  the  sphere  of  prose  composition  to  that 
of  high  poetry.  In  spite  of  the  trammels  of  words,  it  gives  expression 
to  the  same  subtle  and  ethereal  conceptions  which  inspired  the  genius 
of  Liszt  as  a  musical  artist.  As  a  sketch  of  the  life  of  the  great  com- 
poser, it  possesses  an  interest  with  which  few  biographical  works  can 
compare;  but  no  details  of  incident  could  imprison  the  soul  of  the 
author,  and  a  fine  aesthetic  aroma  breathes  from  every  page,  fragrant 
with  the  blossoming  out  of  a  rich  original  nature,  as  well  as  with  an 
exquisite  sense  of  art. 

"  We  must  not  forget  to  thank  the  intelligent  translator  of  this  volume 
for  the  fidelity  with  which  she  has  executed  her  by  no  means  easy 
task.  The  elevated — almost  aerial — conceptions  of  Liszt,  often  seeming 
as  if  they  disdained  the  bonds  of  language,  are  presented  in  lucid, 
idiomatic  English,  which  derives  a  certain  vital  force  more  from  warmth 
of  sympathy  with  the  original  than  from  the  use  of  any  of  tho  arts  of 
vigorous  expression." — Tribune. 

"  The  American  art-world  may  congratulate  itself  on  the  possession 
of  such  a  work,  and  students  and  lovers  of  the  great  Chopin  will  thank 
the  translator  and  Mr.  Leypoldt  for  such  a  gift.  It  will  lie  on  every 
music-stand  with  the  beautiful  thin  volumes  of  Chopin  music." — 
DwighVs  Journal  of  Music. 

"We  wish  the  book  would  be  bought  by  every  amateur,  because  it 
does  not  only  give  an  insight  into  one  of  the  most  peculiar  geniuses  of 
modern  times  and  into  his  music,  but  it  also  shows  us,  more  than  perhaps 
any  thing  else,  the  high  imaginative  powers  of  Liszt,  the  poet,  composer, 
and  pianist." — Musical  Review. 

"Nc  more  fitting  biographer  could  Chopin  have  than  his  friend 

3 


New  Publications. 


Liszt.  No  one  could  better  appreciate  and  describe  bis  great  genius, 
and  no  one  better  portray  bis  life  and  character,  tban  bis  fellow-artist 
and  fellow-countryman."— Musical  Pioneer. 

'•Tbe  book,  in  fact,  opens  a  vista  into  modes  of  life,  manners  of  being, 
and  trains  of  tbougbt  little  known  among  us,  and  hence  is  most  deeply 
interesting.  Tbe  stylo  is  eminently  suited  to  tbe  subject,  and  tbo 
translation  of  Liszt's  French  is  equal  to  the  original." — Continental 
Monthly. 

"Iif  this  tasteful  volume  we  have  the  life  of  one  renowned  artist  by 
another.  It  is  a  work  that  doe3  honor  to  both,  and  which  all  admirers 
of  true  genius  will  not  fail  to  read." — National  Quarterly  Review. 

"The  popularity  which  Chopin  has  recently  acquired  in  this  country 
will  render  the  book  very  acceptable  to  all  who  know  his  music;  while 
to  other  readers  its  beauty  of  style,  exquisite  portrayal  of  character,  and 
descriptions  of  Polish  life  and  Tarisian  society,  will  prove  extremely 
fascinating." — Boston  Journal. 

"  Liszt,  the  favorite  pupil  of  Chopin,  while  he  by  no  means  neglects 
these  minor  requisites  of  a  satisfactory  memoir,  presents  us  with  a  pic- 
ture of  his  great  master  from  the  point  which  he  himself  would  un- 
doubtedly have  chosen, — his  musical  side, — treating  us  to  a  loving  and 
appreciative  criticism  of  some  of  his  noblest  compositions.  We  com- 
mend this  little  volume — which  typographically  is  a  model  of  dainti- 
ness— to  the  lover  of  music  and  musicians." — World. 

"Chopin  was  a  rarely-gifted  genius:  his  most  eminent  disciples  have 
f  mnd  ever-increasing  delight  in  his  peculiar  thoughtfulness  and  origin- 
ality. The  many  in  our  country  who  are  interested  in  his  great  works 
will  feel  obliged  to  Mr.  Leypoldt  for  the  rich  information  afforded  in 
this  little  book,  and  for  the  manner  in  which  it  is  offered, — the  binding, 
paper,  type,  all  attractive."— Lutheran. 

"The  book  is  a  marvel  of  elegant  and  finished  writing:  we  forget  in 
reading  that  it  is  a  translation." — Presbyterian. 

"  Admirably  has  Liszt  performed  the  pleasant  labor  of  love.  . . .  The 
style  of  the  work  is  characteristic  of  its  author.  His  eulogy  of  Chopin 
has  nothing  overwrought  about  it,  but  is  tho  sincere  and  ardent  ex- 
pression of  reverence  and  lpve  which  true  genius  has  for  genius, — a 
sentiment  into  which  th'ere  enters  no  alloy  of  jealousy  ar«d  carping  criti- 
cism."— Palladium. 

"To  say  that  it  is  a  faithful  translation  scarcely  does  it  justice; 
for  Liszt's  French  is  scarcely  so  beautiful  as  Mrs.  Cook's  English.  She 
has  given  the  spirit  of  the  work  with  more  fidelity  than  the  letter.  The 
book  is  in  every  respect  a  charming  one." — Evening  Bulletin. 
4 


New  Publications. 


Mendelssohn's    Letters    from  Italy  and 

Switzerland.    Translated  from  the  German  by  Lady 
Wallace.    With  a  Biographical  Notice  by  Julie  de 
Marguerittes.    1  vol.  lGmo.    Cloth,    Price,  $1.25. 
"  In  these  letters,  addressed  principally  to  members  of  his  family,  the 
playful,  affectionate  nature  of  the  man  sheds  everywhere  the  loveliest 
radiance.   There  is  music  in  his  descriptions ;  and  a  murmur  of  song 
seems  to  have  run  through  all  his  letters.   They  are  the  converse  of  hi.i 
Songs  without  Words ;  and  we  venture  to  predict  that  the  Letters  of  Men- 
delssohn will  become  as  classical  as  those  compositions.  ...  It  is  seldom 
that  we  have  inclination  to  speak  of  a  book  in  terms  of  equal  warmth. 
Wo  must  add  that  Lady  Wallace  has  performed  her  part  of  translator  in 
a  manner  beyond  all  praise.   The  letters  read  as  if  English  had  been 
the  language  in  which  they  were  written." — Parthenon. 

"They  are  as  bright,  as  cheery,  and  as  interesting  as  the  letters  of 
Mozart  contained  in  Holmes's  biography.  . . .  Every  page  will  be  read  with 
delight  by  every  person  who  has  conceived  an  admiration  of  Mendels- 
sohn's genius  by  hearing  his  wonderful  music." — Evening  Bulletin. 

"The  letters  themselves  are  exquisite  productions,  both  in  style  and 
matter.  They  record  chiefly  the  writer's  art-impressions — which  are 
healthful  and  perspicuously  expressed — in  the  centres  of  artistic 
activity;  but  many  most  pleasing  descriptions  of  scenery  and  manners 
are  interwoven  with  the  criticisms." — Presbyterian. 

"...  Who,  then,  will  not  welcome  this  fresh  portraiture  of  the  master  ? 
Who  will  not  be  thankful  for  having  such  an  agreeable  introduction 
to  Mendelssohn's  inner  character?  The  introductory  biography  is  a 
charming  little  essay.  The  letters  which  make  up  the  book  are  just  the 
familiar  chat  and  the  heartful  expression  which  one  would  expect  a 
gifted  mind  to  write  to  his  sister  Fanny,  the  one  he  loved  better  than 
any  other.  We  speak  thus  positively,  not  because  book-reviewers 
usually  say  good  things  of  their  books,  but  because  this  particular  book 
is  really  admirable.  We  can  without  qualification  recommend  it  to 
every  one.  The  language,  style,  facts,  the  paper,  type,  binding,  are 
not  only  entirely  unobjectionable,  but  attractive." — Lutheran. 

"  Mr.  F.  Leypoldt,  in  Philadelphia,  has  already  followed  up  the  good 
work  of  publishing  Liszt's  '  Life  of  Chopin,'  by  giving  us  the  '  Travelling 
Letters'  of  the  young  Mendelssohn,  which  need  no  recommendation  to 
the  readers  of  this  Journal.  He  has  reprinted,  in  the  same  beautiful 
style  and  form  with  the  'Chopin,'  the  translation  of  the  1  Letter  ~ 
from  Italy  and  Switzerland,'  made  in  Engla  d  by  Lady  Wallace."— 
Dwighfs  Journal  of  Music. 

5 


New  Publications. 


'•There  is  so  much  candor,  modesty,  and  amiability  displayed  in  these 
letters  that  one  cannot  help  admiring  the  character  of  the  writer.  On 
tho  other  hand,  all  that  sound  judgment,  that  cautiousness,  that  power 
of  self-control,  which  chai-acterized  the  wholo  artistic  life  of  Mendelssohn, 
is  already  fully  indicated  in  these  letters.  For  this  reason,  the  book  is 
a  key  to  the  better  understanding  of  Mendelssohn  as  a  man  and  as  a 
composer.  This  aloue  entitles  it  to  be  carefully  read  by  every  student 
and  amateur.  Our  young  composers  can  learn  more  from  this  book  of 
travels  than  is  taught  to  them  in  a  good  many  conservatories;  and  we 
cannot  wish  them  any  thing  better  than  that  every  one  of  them  will 
take  its  contents  to  heart." — Musical  Review. 

"  His  Letters  afford  abundant  evidence  of  his  taste  and  judgment.  It 
is  but  seldom  we  have  met  with  more  admirable  criticisms  than  those 
contained  in  correspondence  with  his  friends  from  the  principal  cities  of 
Europe.  Nor  does  he  evince  any  prejudice  as  an  artist.  In  general,  he 
is  an  earnest  critic:  he  gives  his  impressions  honestly." — National 
Quarterly  Review. 

"There  have  been  few  so  beautiful  lives  as  that  of  Mendelssohn, 
which  was  happy  in  every  thing  except  in  its  early  ending, — aud  even  in 
that,  if  there  be  any  truth  in  the  old  Greek  saying,  '  Whom  the  gods  love 
die  young.'  . . .  What  letters  such  a  man  as  Mendelssohn  would  be  likely 
to  write  to  his  dearest  and  best  friends,  from  Venice,  Rome,  Milan, 
Naples,  Lucerne,  and  Paris,  may  be  imagined.  . . .  The  beauty  and  rich- 
ness of  his  genius  shine  through  them  and  make  them  delightful  read- 
ing, the  aroma  of  which  lingers  in  the  mind,  when  the  letters  themselves 
are  laid  down,  like  the  echo  of  a  strain  of  music  or  the  memory  of  a 
happy  day.   The  volume  is  charmingly  got  up." — World. 

"  All  through  the  volume  we  find  sensible  criticism,  not  only  upon 
music,  but  also  upon  sculpture,  painting,  and  scenery.  The  snatches 
of  personal  action  are  given  in  the  most  natural  manner.  The  whole 
correspondence  was  written  without  the  slightest  view  to  publication, 
and  is  better,  in  one  sense,  on  that  very  account."— Press. 

"This  is  one  of  the  most  unpretending  yet  most  touching  little  works 
we  have  met  with  for  a  long  while.  . . .  Those  who  love  music  and  wish 
to  understand  how  men  and  things  appear  to  an  inspired  artist  must 
read  this  little  book." — Age. 

"Of  the  illustrious  author  of  these  Letters  we  speak  with  reverence 
Gifted  with  the  very  highest  order  of  musical  genius  and  with  a  fine 
mind,  he  never  once  prostituted  either  of  these  precious  endowments  to 
an  unworthy  purpose.  lie  seems  to  have  held  them  as  a  sacred  trust 
for  which  he  would  have  to  give  account.  His  life  was  in  accordance 
with  his  genius.  Both  were  beautiful;  and  they  have  left  enduring 
marks  behind  them." — Xorth  American. 


New  Publications. 


"This  is  one  of  the  most  charming  productions — or  rather  reproduc- 
tions—of  our  modern  literature." — Transcript. 

"The  volume  is  really  a  very  charming  work,  not  merely  to  tho  lovers 
of  music,  hut  to  all  who  wish  to  peruso  a  work  possessing  peculiar 
charms  off  composition,  and  producing  upon  tho  mind  that  pleasurahlo 
sensation  of  repose  which  both  tho  subjects  treated  and  the  amiability 
of  the  author  combined  to  produce." — Boston  Gazette. 

"...  During  a  visit  to  Goethe  in  1830,  he  planned  a  journey  to  Italy; 
and  those  letters  are  the  pleasing,  familiar  record  of  this  journey. 
They  are  naive  and  piquant  as  the  home-letters  of  a  child ;  while  the 
well-stored  mind  of  tho  man  and  the  scholar  gleams  throughout  their 
pages  in  thoughtful  observations  upon  art,  literature,  and  life,  which 
give  tbe  book  more  than  a  temporary  interest.  . . .  His  opinions  on  art- 
themes  have  the  highest  worth;  and  they  are  not  less  acceptable  for 
coming  to  us  in  the  form  of  letters.  ...  No  musical  library  will  be  com- 
plete without  this  tasteful  little  volume  and  its  predecessor." — 
Palladium. 

"Mr.  F.  L.,  a  publisher  whose  books  evince  excellent  taste,  has  lately 
issued  a  neat  volume  of  'Mendelssohn's  Letters,'  etc.  The  Letters  are 
pleasant  relics  of  a  delicate  and  noble  mind: — they  are  simple  and 
natural  in  style,  descriptive  in  substance,  and  poetic  in  sentiment.  To 
persons  of  musical  taste  and  cultivation,  this  volume  must  possess  a 
peculiar  interest.  Its  merits,  however,  are  so  various  and  so  genuine 
that  all  lovers  of  literature  will  lind  pleasure  in  reading  it.-' — Albion.. 


7 


New  Publications. 


The  Jobsiad,  or  The    Life,  Opinions, 

Actions  and  Fate  of  Ilieronimus  Jobs,  the  Candidate. 
A  grotesco-coinico-heroic  Poem.  From  the  German  of 
Dr.  Carl  Arnold  Kortum,  by  Charles  T.  Brooks, 
Translator  of  "Faust,"  "Titan,"  etc.  lvol.  16mo. 
Printed  on  tinted  laid  paper.  With  illustrations. 
Cloth,  red  edges  or  top  gilt,  $1.25 

"The  frequenters  of  the  Düsseldorf  Cillery  at  the  time  of  its  first 
openings  in  New  York  have  not  forgotten  the  irresistibly  comic  pic- 
tures by  Ilasenclever,  representing  certain  passages  in  the  life  of  the 
renowned  Ilieronimus  Jobs.  In  this  wonderful  mock-heroic  poem  the 
complete  biography  of  that  worthy  is  presented  in  appropriately  jolly 
verse.  The  work  is  considered  a  regular  classic  of  its  kind  in  Germany, 
where  it  first  appeared  nearly  three-quarters  of  a  century  since,  and 
from  that  time  has  maintained  its  rank  as  a  master-piece  of  whimsical 
drollery.  In  its  present  form  the  poem  reads  like  a  fresh  production. 
The  incidents  and  costume,  of  course,  are  German,  but  the  langnage  is 
decidedly  the  Yankee  vernacular  of  the  raciest  kind,  and  its  whole  air 
of  quaint,  demure  humor  expressed  in  the  most  saucy  familiar  English 
makes  it  one  of  the  most  remarkable  feats  of  translation  in  any  litera- 
ture. This  should  cause  no  surprise,  however,  to  those  who  are  ac- 
quainted with  the  previous  successes  of  Mr.  Brooks  in  this  line ;  for  no 
miracle  of  translation  is  impossible  to  one  who  has  achieved  the  all- 
but  desperate  task  of  rendering  'Faust'  and  'Titan'  into  wholesome, 
idiomatic  English  not  unworthy  of  the  originals." — Tribune. 

"  Mr.  Brook3  attempts  the  hardest  tasks  of  the  translator.  '  Faust'  is 
one  of  the  most  difficult  books  to  render  into  English  verse;  'Titan'  is 
still  worse  to  be  translated  at  all;  and  now  we  have  a  poem  of  which 
even  the  metre  must  be  created  by  the  translator,  there  being  none 
such  in  our  language.  Yet  in  all  these  Mr.  Brooks  has  been  successful, 
moderately  in '  Faust,'  eminently  in '  Titan,' — Carlyle  being  the  judge. — 
and  comically  in  this  book.  So  well  has  he  succeeded  in  'oversetting' 
the  humor  of  the  piece  into  the  New  England  dialect,  while  yet  retain- 
ing the  German  flavor  of  the  story,  that  it  cannot  fail  to  be  read, 
especially  since  the  publisher  has  put  it  in  a  dress  so  attractive  and 
appropriate." — Commonwealth. 

"This  book  is  translated  by  C.  T.  Brooks,  tho  translator  of  'Faust,' 
'  Titan,'  &c,  and  is  the  first  rendering  into  En  glish  of  one  of  the  master- 
pieces of  German  humor.  It  is  full  of  fun  and  frolic,  abounds  in 
pedantry,  and.  as  a  German  writer  says, '  owes  a  great  part  of  its  effect  to 
the  peculiar  doggerel,  since  become  typical,  managed  by  the  author  with 
the  mo^t  riotous  extravagance  of  whimsy,  and  yet  at  the  same  time 
8 


New  Publications. 


with  the  sure  hand  of  a  master.'  The  peculiar  doggerel  Mr.  Brooks  has 
succeeded  in  reproducing  in  English,  and  he  has  furnished  a  translation 
which  will  very  soon  take  its  placo  among  the  standard  books  on  the 
shelves  of  the  student  and  the  book-amateur." — Commercial  Advertiser. 

"This  is  a  most  amusing  and  popular  poem  in  the  original,  and  it  has 
been  translated  with  groat  fidelity  by  Mr.  Charles  T.  Brooks,  the 
translator  of '  Faust'  and  '  Titan.' " — Evening  Bulletin. 

"Tho  'Jobsiad'  is  the  German  'Hudibras.'  The  adventures  of  the 
Swabian  are  quite  as  ridiculous  as  those  of  Butler's  hero.  The  stylo  is 
free  and  easy,  the  humor  quaint,  the  rhymes  grotesque,  and  the  whole 
story  amusing." — Sunday  Dispatch. 

"  The  lover  of  the  quaint,  the  keen,  and  the  laughable,  the  student  of 
human  character  and  of  natural  and  social  peculiarities,  will  bo  de- 
lighted with  this  book.  ...  Its  best  touches  are  of  the  most  pleasing 
kind,  and  its  sarcasm  is  never  weakened  by  a  defect  of  benevolence. 
The  true  satirist  must  be  a  philanthropist;  and  this  we  feel  that  Dr. 
Kortum  is,  through  his  most  unique  and  original  poem." — Lutheran. 

"  We  can  heartily  commend  this  volume  to  every  lover  of  genuine 
humor." — Morning  Chronicle. 

"  The  verse,  doggerel  as  it  may  be,  is  exquisitely  comic,  and  so  easily 
retained,  that  we  have  no  doubt  many  of  the  '  wise  saws'  of  the  Senator 
and  his  son  the  student  will  speedily  become  popular." — Transcript. 

"  The  1  Jobsiad,  or  Adventures  of  Ilieronimus  Jobs,  the  Candidate,' — 
apart  from  the  fact  that  it  is  a  very  quaint  specimen  of  publishing,  with 
its  antique  text,  mediaeval  wood-cuts,  and  colored  letter, — is  a  rare  addi- 
tion to  our  literature,  happily  translated  as  it  has  been  from  the  origi- 
nal of  Kortum  by  Charles  T.  Brooks,  the  honest,  tasteful,  and  ac- 
complished enthusiast  in  the  transfer  of  German  classics  to  our  own 
language.  He  has  had  no  more  difficult,  he  has  done  no  better,  work 
than  the  '  Jobsiad :'  hitting  upon  the  exact  style,  he  has  sustained  it 
skilfully  to  the  end."— New  Yorker. 

"  It  has  seldom  been  our  lot  to  review  a  book  containing  such  a  large 
fund  of  genuine  comic  humor  as  the  one  bearing  the  above  title.  It 
has  passed  through  ten  editions  of  several  thousand  copies  each, — which 
well  attests  the  high  favor  in  which  it  is  held  in  its  native  language. 
The  translator,  Mr.  Charles  T.  Brooks,  who  has  also  given  us  English 
versions  of  '  Faust,'  1  Titan,'  and  other  German  works,  has  succeeded 
admirably  in  retaining  the  rhyme  and  rhythm,  with  all  the  irresistible 
drollery  for  which  the  original  poem  is  remarkable.  Mr.  Frederick 
Leypoldt,  we  doubt  not,  will  be  amply  recompensed  by  a  patronage 
commensurate  with  the  outlay  and  labor  which  the  production  of  such 
a  work  necessarily  involves." — National  Guard. 

9 


New  Publications. 


"  The  book,  which,  as  the  translator  well  says,  is  so  unique  as  to  be 
almost  a  genus  by  itself,  was  originally  published  in  1784,  and  has  been 
and  still  is  very  popular  in  Germany,  having  passed  through  many 
editions.  . . .  The  translator,  Mr.  Brooks,  whose  English  versions  of 
German  authors  have  placed  him  in  thp  front  ranks  of  translators,  has 
performed  in  this  instance  a  very  formidable  task  with  remarkable  suc- 
cess. The  illustrations  must  be  seen  to  be  appreciated.  Many  of  them 
are  capital  imitations  of  that  early  age  of  art — or  artlessness,  to  use  a 
common  word  in  an  uncommon  sense — when  perspective  was  un- 
known."— Cincinnati  Gazette. 

"  An  exquisitely  comical  and  fresh  originality  pervades  the  whole, 
and  tastes  like  fresh  spring  water,  while  it  makes  you  burst  out  in  one 
of  those  hearty  and  loud  peals  of  laughter  which  remind  of  childhood's 
heart-free  enjoyments,  and  which  become  doubly  rare  and  dear  as  we 
grow  old  and  serious  by  too  frequent  contact  with  life's  bitter  sorrows. 
There  is  such  a  healthy,  human  air  breathing  through  the  whole,  that 
it  is  a  real  treat  to  read  it  after  the  morbid,  gloomy,  world-weary,  and 
insipid  literature  which  principally  characterizes  the  present  day. 
You  feel  like  a  human  being  again — perhaps  somewhat  like  a  human 
animal;  but  that  is,  after  all,  much  better  than  to  feel  like  a  human 
ghost,  haunted  and  haunting.  A  whimsical  strain  gives  additional 
coloring  to  the  story,  and  is  especially  observable  in  the  wood-cuts 
which  adorn  the  book,  and  which  we  will  guarantee  will  surprise  the 
reader.  It  would  be  folly  to  make  extracts  from  this  charming  work. 
It  must  be  read  whole.  All  who  wish  to  enjoy  a  hearty  laugh  will 
peruse  it;  nor  can  they  well  fail  to  derive  instruction  from  it.  The 
book  is  gotten  up  in  very  fine  style,— better  than  any  German  edition. 
The  translation  is,  as  we  have  said,  excellent." — Missouri  Republican. 

"  It  is  a  kind  of  German  1  Iludibras'  in  stanza,  and  yet  not  a  '  Iludi- 
bras'  either,  but  rather  a  Spanish  picaresque  novel,  or  novel  of  roguery, 
made  terse  and  ethical  by  German  good  6ense,  and  told  in  an  original 
kind  of  German  doggerel.  . . .  'The  Jobsiad'  is  a  really  droll  book,  not 
in  the  style  of  outrageous  drollery,  for  there  is  never  any  wild  or  extra- 
ordinary outbreak  in  it  of  the  humorous  geuius,  and  you  are  not  re- 
quired more  than  once  or  twice,  as  you  read,  to  laugh  outright,  but  in 
the  style  of  grave,  dry,  and,  as  the  critic  says,  '  drastic,'  drollery.  . . . 
Whoever  cares  to  read  'The  Jobsiad'  has  it  here,  we  should  say,  with  all 
the  relish  that  there  can  be  in  the  original,— the  dry  drollery  all  kept, 
and  the  effect  of  the  queer  doggerel  well  given,  or  even  perhaps  occa- 
sionally improved  by  little  quirks  of  expression  and  comical  liberties 
taken  with  English  words  and  pronunciation  in  order  to  get  at  rhymes." 
— Reader  (London). 
10 


New  Publications". 


Heinrich  Heine's  Pictures  of  Travel. 

Translated  by  Charles  G.  Leland.  Fourth  revised 
edition.    1  vol.  12mo.    Cloth.    Price,  $1.50. 

"The  most  poetic  and  specifically  humorous  of  Heine's  prose 
writings  is  the  '■Reisebilder.'  "—Westminster  Review. 

"Those  who  wish  for  a  single  good  specimen  of  Heine  should 
read  his  first  important  work,  the  work  which  made  his  reputa- 
tion, the  'Reisebilder'  (Pictures  of  Travel)." — Matthew  Arnold 
(Comhill  Magazine). 

"  Mr.  Leland's  'Pictures  of  Travel,'  translated  from  the  German 
of  Henry  Heine,  is  an  admirable  rendering  of  the  great  wit's  'Pweise- 
hilder,'  in  which  the  spirit  of  the  original  is  given  with  a  point  and 
elegance  rarely  equalled  in  English  versions  of  German  poetry 
while  the  whole  is  singularly  literal  and  exact." — Dr.  R.  W.  Gris- 
wold's  "Poets  and  Poetry  of  America." 

Heinrich  Heine's  Book  of  Songs.  Trans- 
lated by  Charles  Gr.  Leland.  1  vol.  16mo.  Printed 
on  tinted  paper.    Cloth.    Price,  $1.00.    (In  press.) 

"  His  songs  are  all  music  and  feeling." — Westminster  Review. 
"The  magic  of  Heine's  poetical  form  is  incomparable."— Mattliew 
Arnold. 

Modern  Essays.  No.  1.  Heinrich  Heine. 

By  Matthew  Arnold.    16mo.    Price,  25  cents. 

"Matthew  Arnold's  essays  might  be  cited  as  among  the  best  ex- 
amples we  have  of  real  essay-writing  amid  the  acres  of  twaddle 
which  assume  the  name." — The  London  Reader. 

"The  paper  of  the  month  (August,  1863)  is  a  notice  of  Heinrich 
Heine  by  Mr.  Matthew  Arnold,  one  of  those  exquisite  morsels  of 
criticism,  expressed  in  the  clearest  of  words,  which  only  he  can 
write." — London  Athenceum. 

The  Art  Principle  and  its  Application 

to  the  Teaching  of  Music.  By  Anna  Jackson.  16nio. 
Cloth.    Price,  30  cents. 

Baskerville.    The  Poetry  of  Germany. 

Selections  from  the  most  celebrated  Poets,  translated 
into  English  verse,  with  the  original  text  on  the  op- 
posite page.  A  new  edition.  1  vol.  12mo.  Bd.  $1.75. 

11 


New  Publications. 


Leypoldt's  Foreign  Library. 

Vol.  I.   "Who  Breaks— Pays."  By  the 

author  of  "Cousin  Stella,"  "Skirmishing,"  etc.  1 
vol.  lGino.    Paper.    Price,  50  cents. 

"  'Who  Breaks— Pays,'  is  a  love  tale,  told  with  exquisite  pathos 
and  poetry.  There  is  a  freshness  and  originality  about  the  book 
which  give  it  a  place  among  the  standard  works  of  the  day." — 
Publishers'  Circular. 

"The  plot  is  managed  with  rare  skill,  and  the  frequent  love 
scenes  are  fresh  and  almost  inimitable." — Cincinnati  Gazette. 

Vol.  II.  Im  men-See.  Grandmother  and 

Granddaughter.   Two  Tales  from  the  German.   1  vol. 
16mo.    Price,  25  cents. 
The  same;  on  large  (tinted)  paper.  Cloth.  Price,  75  cts. 

Vol.  III.    Skirmishing.   By  the  author 

of  "Who  Breaks — Pays,"  etc.  1  vol.  16mo.  Paper. 
Price,  30  and  50  cts. ;  cloth,  75. 

"The  book  is  beautifully  written.  The  persons  of  the  story  all 
live  and  breathe  ;  we  shake  hands  pleasantly  with  them,  and  some 
of  them  become  our  dear  friends." — Publishers'  Circular. 

"  The  story  is  graceful  and  charmiug,  for  the  skill  with  which 
the  slight  incidents  are  narrated,  as  well  as  the  sweet,  broad,  loving 
charity  of  heart  that  is  inculcated." — London  Athenceum. 

"  Here  we  have  a  real  work  of  art,  such  as  the  weary  critic  has 
seldom  the  pleasure  of  meeting  with." — The  Reader. 

"  'Skirmishing'  is  as  pretty  a  tale  of  English  life  as  can  well  be 
imagined,  written  with  excellent  taste  and  good  feeling." — West- 
minster Review. 

Vol.  IV.    Fanchon  the  Cricket.  From 

the  French  of  George  Sand.  By  M.  M.  Hays.  1  vol. 
16mo.    Price,  50  cents. 

Vol.  V.   Human  Follies.   By  Jules  de 

Noriac.    Translated  from  the  16th  Paris  edition  by 
George  Marlow.    1  vol.  lGmo.    Price,  50  cents. 
12 


New  Publications. 


A  New  Series  of  Standard  Educational  Works. 

Soirees  Litteraires.    Causeriesde  Salon. 

Par  Madame  C.  R.  Corson  (»<fe  Rollin).  1  vol. 
16mo.    Cloth.    Price,  65  cents. 

L'Histoire  de  France.    Racontee  a,  la 

Jeunesse.  Par  M.  Lame  Fleuky.  1  vol.  16mo.  Cloth. 
Price,  $1.25. 

New  Guide  to  Modern  Conversation  in 

French  and  English.  By  Witcomb  and  Bellenger. 
1  vol.  16mo.    Cloth.    Price,  65  cents. 

Trois  Mois  sous  la  Neige.   Journal  d'un 

Jeune  Habitant  du  Jura.  Par  Jaques  Porchat.  1 
vol.  16mo.  Cloth.  Price,  65  cents.  Ouvrage 
couronne  par  PAcademie  Franqaise. 

Sadler's  Exercises  for  Translating  Eng- 
lish into  French  ;  or,  Cours  de  Versions.  First  Ame- 
rican from  the  fifteenth  Paris  edition.  Annotated 
and  revised  hy  M.  Gillette.    1  vol.  16mo. 

Le  Censeur ;  or,  English  Errors  in  Speak- 
ing French.    First  American  from  the  third  London 
edition.    1  vol.  16mo.    (7n  Preparation.) 
33="  This  carefully  edited  Series  is  to  be  continued,  and  will  offer, 
in  cheap,  neat,  and  correct  editions,  the  most  approved  Text-books 
for  the  study  of  the  French  Language  and  Literature. 


Landmarks  of  History.  By  Miss  Yonge, 

author  of  "The  Heir  of  Redclyffe."    3  vols.  16mo. 

I.  Ancient  History.    First  American 

from  the  fifth  London  edition.  Revised  and  enlarged 
by  Edith  L.  Chase.  1vol.  16mo.  Cloth.  Price,  75  cts. 

II.  Middle  Ages.    (In  Preparation.) 


New  Publications. 


Latest  Publications. 

Schiller's  Complete  Works.   Edited  and 

selected  from  the  best  translations,  (Coleridge,  Bulwer, 
Mellish,  and  others,)  by  Charles  J.  Hempel.  2  vols, 
large  royal  8vo.  Price,  cloth,  $5  ;  half  morocco,  $6  50. 

Chaucer's  Legende  of  Goode  Women. 

Edited,  with  an  Introduction  and  Notes,  Glossarial 
and  Critical,  by  Hiram  Corson.   16mo.  Cloth. 


In  Preparation. 

Musical  Sketches.     By  Elise  Polko. 

Translated  from  the  German  by  Fanny  Fuller.  On 
tinted  paper.    16mo.    Cloth.    Price  $1.25. 

Mendelssohn's  Letters.    From  1833 — 

1847.  Translated  from  the  German  by  Lady  Wallace. 
16mo. 

Wilhelm  von  Humboldt's  Letters  to  a 

Lady.  With  an  Introduction  by  Charles  G.  Leland. 
On  tinted  paper.    16mo.   Cloth.    Price  $1. 

Religious  and  Critical  Essays  of  Ernest 

Renan.  Translated  from  the  French  by  Rev.  0.  B. 
Frothingham. 

Cherry  and  Violet.    By  the  author  of 

"Mary  Powell."  16mo. 

The  Good  for  Nothing.    A  Story  of 

Artist  Life  and  Love.  By  Joseph  Baron  von  Eichen- 
dorff.  Translated  by  Chas.  G.  Leland.  1  vol.  16mo. 

Sibylle.    From  the  French  of  Octave 

Feuillet.    By  Fanny  Fuller.  16mo. 

Mademoiselle  La  Quintinie.    From  the 

French  of  George  Sand.    By  M.  A.  Baillot.  16mo. 


